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AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 



A BOY IN THE CIVIL WAR 



BY 

Charles E. Benton 

Of the One Hundred and Fiftieth New York State Volunteers 



'IVhich . . . I myself saw , and of which I was a , . . part." 

iENEID, II, v-vi. 



9 'y '3 



G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 
NEW YORK AND LONDON 
^be ftntctterbocfter presd 

1902 









THE LIBRAftV OF 
CONGRESS. 

Two Copies R^ceivfd 

AUG. 5 1902 

Copyright entry 

CUASS CU XXc No. 

COPY B. 



Copyright, 1902 

BY 

CHARLES E. BENTON 



Published, July, 1902 



Ube Vtnfclterboclter ptces, 'Devo ^otlt 



IjV 



TO THE FAITHFUL COUPLE WHO 

WAITED IN HOPE AND TRUST, AND 

ONE OF WHOM PASSED TO THE OTHER SHORE 

WHILE THEIR BOY WAS ON HIS WAY HOME, 

THIS VOLUME IS AFFECTIONATELY 

DEDICATED BY THE AUTHOR 



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PREFACE 

THIS is not a history in any sense, and it 
can hardly be called a story of the war, 
which was the greatest war of the age. There 
have been many wars of longer duration, and 
there have been slaughterings of weaker 
races by stronger ones; but this was, from 
the first, a death grapple between two civil- 
izations represented by branches of the same 
dominant race, and for four long years the 
echoes of the picket's rifle never ceased. The 
desperate and heroic character of the contest 
is attested by the high proportion of casual- 
ties in both armies, which were far in excess 
of those of any modem European war. 

As those who took part in it are fast pass- 
ing away, I am minded to sketch at random a 
few recollections of events which came under 
my own observation and touched my own 
experience, believing that the impressions 
which events make upon any personality 



VI 



PREFACE 



have a certain value in themselves. In these 
sketches I have had constantly in mind that 
large portion of the public — and may it ever 
grow larger — who have never witnessed 
scenes of war, and have written for them 
rather than for veterans, aiming to present 
in a series of pen pictures the drama of the 
civil war as seen from the ranks. 




CONTENTS 



Preface 



PAGE 

V 



I. 

The Making of the Soldier 

The Dutchess County Regiment — Enlistment 
— Night Ride to Poughkeepsie — The Muster- 
ing Camp — Enthusiasm — A Regimental Band 
— Departure. 

11. 

From Camp to Field .... 

A Winter in Baltimore — City Camp and Field 
Camp — Short Rations — Fun and Hardship — 
A Forced March — Echoes of Battle. 



12 



III. 

Gettysburg ...... 

Approaching the Conflict — Meeting the 
Wounded — On the Field — Entering the, Bat- 
tle — "How Does a Battle Look?" — Work of 
the Stretcher- Bearers — Opening of the Third 
Day's Battle — Recovering a Position — Hold- 
ing Culp's Hill against " Stonewall " Jackson's 
Veterans. 

vii 



24 



viii CONTENTS 

IV. 

PAGE 

The Crisis Battle of the War . . 37 
Pickett's Grand Charge — Daring Courage of 
the South Breaks against the Firmness of the 
North — What might have Happened — Hope 
of Republics. 

V. 

After the Battle 45 

Emotions in Battle — Quality of Courage — 
Gettysburg the Greatest Battle, both in Im- 
portance and in Loss of Life — Greatest Regi- 
mental Losses Known to History. 

VL 

From Pennsylvania to the Potomac . 54 
Aftermath of the Strife— The Price of Valor 
— Acres of Dead Men — Phenomena of Death 
in Battle — Repulsive Appearance of the Bat- 
tlefield — A Forced March — Again Facing the 
Enemy. 

vn. 

On the Potomac . . . . .64 

Scenery of Western Maryland — Interviewing 
a Scout — Enemy Escaped — Whose the Fault 
— Night March in Storm and Darkness — Har- 
per's Ferry. 

VIII. 
Virginia ....... 74 

Entering Confederate Territory — Snicker's 
Gap, with Feasts of Blackberries — Distant 
View of the Shenandoah Valley — Sickness in 
Camp — Coincidence — The Gravestone of a 
Northern Girl Stops the Bullet Aimed at a 
Northern Soldier. 



CONTENTS IX 

IX. 

PAGE 

From Virginia to Alabama . . .88 
Forward to the Rapidan — A Military Execu- 
tion, and how it was Conducted — Moved to 
the Western Army — Incidents on the Way 
— Guarding Railroad in Tennessee — Topog- 
raphy of the State. 

X. 

A Winter in Tennessee . . -99 

The Country was then New — Characteristics 
of the Natives — Did n't Know the Flag — 
Leaves from an Old Magazine — The Regi- 
ment Makes its Own Bread — Interviewing 
Confederate Prisoners. 

XI. 

Over the Cumberland Mountains . no 

The Imp in the Attic — Leaving the Winter 
Camp — Hardening to the Work — Last Camp 
in Middle Tennessee — Climbing the Mountain 
Range — Rivalry of Regiments — Nick- a- jack 
Cave and its Blood-Curdling Traditions. 

XII. 

Old Battlefields . . . . .124 
Lookout Mountain and its Surroundings — 
Gateway of the Confederacy — Battles and 
Battlefields of the Previous Year — River of 
Death — ' ' Fighting Joe " Hooker — General 
Sherman, then and afterward — What is 
Meant by "Flanking." 



CONTENTS 



XIII. 



Battle of Resaca ..... 134 
Grtiesome Preparations — Battle Scene like a 
Play Set on the Stage — Assault by Colonel 
(afterward President) Harrison — Our Regi- 
ment Engaged — Enemy Repulsed — Con- 
federate Chaplain Slain, with his Sons — 
Removing the Wounded — Confederate Field 
Hospital — Bridge Building Hastened. 

XIV. 

The Mystic Chords of Memory . . 146 
Memories Revived by Old Letters — The Sani- 
tary and Christian Commissions — "Uncle 
John" Vassar, the Army Missionary — Cap- 
tain Cruger Wounded — The New Chaplain 
Wished to See a Battle — " Sherman's 
Method" — The Recruit and the General — 
Confederate Letter. 

XV. 

The Battle of New Hope Church . 158 

Mind-Readers and Coming Events — Popular 
Misapprehensions — Battles are Fought by the 
Rank and File — Field Hospitals — Pathetic 
Scenes — Rebuilding — Advancing — Pursuing. 

XVI. 

From Field to Hospital . . . 169 

With the Ambulances — Caring for the 
Wounded on the Way — Hardships for the 
Sick — Temporary Stopping- Place Becomes 
an All-Summer's Hospital. 



CONTENTS xi 

XVII. 

PAGE 

Hospital Experiences .... i8o 
Peculiarities of the Patients — One who Lost 
Half his Blood and All his Conceit — Grati- 
tude of the Wounded — High Rate of Mor- 
tality — Theory and Practice in Medicine — 
Confederate Patients. 

XVIII. 

Hospital Experiences (continued) . 189 

A Day's Duties — Curious Wounds — A Cheer- 
ful Patient — Commonness of Death — Walt 
Whitman's Hospital Pictures — A Berrying 
Excursion — Murders by Guerillas — Return to 
the Regiment. 

XIX. 
Atlanta 199 

Sketch of City Mansion — Death of a Member 
of the Band — Mystery and Adventure of his 
Life — A Foraging Tour — Voting for President 
— Amusements of an Army — Amateur Theat- 
rical Company. 

XX. 

Marching through Georgia . . 208 

Evacuation of Atlanta — The City in Flames 
— The March Begun — Stone Mountain — De- 
stroying Railroads — Immensity of an Army 
— Refreshing Change of Diet — Crowds of 
Slaves. 



xii CONTENTS 

XXL 

PAGE 

Sherman's March to the Sea . . 220 

"Sherman's Bummers" — Writer Joins the 
Foraging Party — An Antique of the Race 
Course — Capture of Milledgeville — A Cala- 
boose, a Church, and a Liberty Pole — Investi- 
gating a Prison- Pen. 

XXIL 

End of the March . . . 232 

A Song by the Camp- Fire, and what Followed 
— A Strayed Premonition — How Railroads 
were Destroyed — Capturing a Steamboat — 
In Front of Savannah — Rice Plantations — 
Lumber for Winter Quarters. 

XXIII. 

Capture of Savannah and Invasion of 

South Carolina .... 248 

Army Suffering with Hunger — Enemy's Pru- 
dent Retreat — Unparalleled Campaign — 
Journalistic Enterprise — Crossing the Sa- 
vannah into South Carolina — Cold Weather 
again — Skilful Manoeuvring — General Kil- 
patrick's Adventure. 

XXIV. 

Tramping AND Fighting in the Carolinas 262 
The Burning of Columbia — Explosion in 
Cheraw — Turpentine Factory in Flames — 
Battle of Averysborough — '' Animis Opi- 
busque Parati" — A Little Panic soon Ended 
— Bentonville, the Last Battle. 



CONTENTS xiii 

XXV. 

PAGE 

The Dawn of Peace .... 273 

Surrender of Lee and Johnston — Rejoicing 
Interrupted — Lincoln and Seward — Through 
Richmond and over Old Battlefields — A 
Vast Bivouac of the Dead — Washington in 
Mourning, but Exultant and Rejoicing — 
The Grand Review. 

XXVI. 

The Home-coming 287 

A Brief Review of the War — Regiment again 
at Poughkeepsie — Only a Fragment of the 
Original Membership Join in the Home- 
Coming — An Honorable Record — Dutchess 
County Welcomes its Veterans. 




As Seen From The Ranks 



CHAPTER I 



THE MAKING OF THE SOLDIER 



The Dutchess County Regiment — EnHstment — Night 
Ride to Poughkeepsie — The Mustering Camp — 
Enthusiasm — A Regimental Band — Departure. 

A MILITARY company is passing with 
its band. The rhythm of its marching 
quickstep sways the air with the free insist- 
ence with which the waltzer swings his part- 
ner through the movements of the dance. 
The swing and step of the company is so 
perfect that unconsciously one accepts it as 
part and parcel of the music. Neither would 
be complete without the other, but com- 
bined they exert a power to coerce, by asso- 
ciation, the memory and imagination in the 



2 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

reproduction of past experiences. In no 
other way, by no other approach, can Mem- 
ory's players so quickly assemble on the 
stage and set thereon the play of past events, 
as through the sense of hearing. 
. I stand on the curbstone, jostled and 
pushed by the throng, but among them 
marches a silent host seen only by myself. 
My eyes close and I seem to be part of the 
passing procession: I am one of the band, 
marching on the right of the front rank, and 
with the instrument pressed to my lips it is 
I who am playing a brave march down the 
street. I am marching, still playing, through 
Baltimore; I am toiling on through a rich 
farming country, over trampled fields of 
wheat, to a blood-washed battlefield; I am 
rejoicing in health, then wasted in sickness; 
I am abounding in plenty, and again suffer- 
ing with hunger. 

Scenes throng in upon me with a rapidity 
that forbids enumeration, but suddenly my 
eyes open and there is the company still 
marching and myself still standing on the 
curbstone. How the music has tricked me! 
Those events were more than a third of a 
century ago, and the nineteenth century was 
then in its strength of middle life. These 



THE MAKING OF THE SOLDIER 3 

are mere play soldiers, boys who wax their 
mustaches and play soldier in time of peace. 
But stop again! my own lip was innocent of 
beard of any kind, waxed or un waxed, when 
I put my name on the enrolment, a signa- 
ture which meant so much. The men of this 
military company who look so young to me 
now, average much older than the rank and 
file of the army of the Union did in the '60 's. 
That was essentially an army of men in ex- 
perience, yet a majority of them were but 
boys in years. 

The question of human rights is always 
vitally connected with political questions, 
and at the time of which I write it presented 
itself in a form seemingly much less trivial 
than it has since. When it finally culmi- 
nated in a crisis in which the issue was noth- 
ing less than national life or death, a wave of 
patriotic fervor, sometimes deprecatingly re- 
ferred to as "the war fever," swept over the 
land. This torrent of feeling was at its flood 
in 1862, when, at the suggestion of Benson 
J. Lossing, the historian, there was organized 
in Poughkeepsie what was known as "The 
Dutchess County Regiment," afterward offi- 
cially styled the 150th New York State 
Volunteers, 



4 AS SEE AT FROM THE RANKS 

The camp was on a certain rocky hillside 
of Poughkeepsie, and there may still be seen, 
once a year at the time of the annual re- 
union, a few gray-haired men who walk out 
there, look at the place thoughtfully, and 
then turn back to the city. 

Naturally most of the work of organizing 
was done by those who planned to be com- 
missioned as the regiment's officers, and 
there was much good-natured rivalry in try- 
ing to fill the companies, for until the mini- 
mum number was reached no officer could 
receive his commission. The company in 
which I had promised to enroll completed its 
number under the stimulus of this rivalry. 
When it was learned one Sunday that a cer- 
tain other company was nearly completed, 
and expected to be entered and its officers 
commissioned on the Monday following, there 
was more than one Paul Revere who rode to 
distant points in the county where recruiting 
was going on, or rather where work was 
being done with that in view. 

In my own town, Henry Gridley, soon 
afterward commissioned ist Lieutenant of 
Company A, notified all who had promised 
to enlist with him, and we were soon started 
on our thirty-mile ride across the county. 



THE MAKING OF THE SOLDIER 5 

There were plenty who volunteered teams 
and wagons to carry us thither ; in fact more 
were offered than were needed, and some 
there were who drove along with us to see 
the outcome of the rivalry. I remember 
that we stopped at midnight at the residence 
of the Examining Surgeon to pass the ne- 
cessary physical examination, and then re- 
sumed our ride. We reached Poughkeepsie 
some time before daylight in the early days 
of September. We had accomplished our 
purpose in having our company the first one 
to be filled to the minimum number required, 
and were designated "Company A," while 
our officers were duly commissioned before 
any other company officers of the regiment, 
and hence were the senior line officers. 

The quarters of the camp were of the rud- 
est description, — floorless sheds having three 
tiers of bunks which were expected to accom- 
modate two or three persons in each bunk. 
But our hearts were very young and fresh 
then. Probably • three fourths of the regi- 
ment were from farming communities, and in 
accordance with the customs of the time they 
were accustomed to sleep in unwarmed 
apartments the winter through. But more 
than all it was the exaltation of the time and 



6 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

events which made us look upon this and 
other trivial hardships of camp life (which 
were no real hardships in fact) as a sort of 
military picnic. 

As several hundred men were already 
assembled in the camp there was some at- 
tempt at military routine, the most note- 
worthy at that time being what was termed 
— by courtesy perhaps — the " Dress Parade." 
This was attempted at the close of each day 
on a level field at the foot of the hill, and at 
the proper moment in the ceremony an old 
cannon on the hill boomed a loud report. 
This was called the "sunset gun," and upon 
the instant the flag, which had been waving 
all day on the flagstaff, suddenly slackened 
its halyards and came down, "upon the run." 

Day after day this performance was 
watched most critically by a crowd of in- 
terested spectators, and it was tacitly under- 
stood that our ability to bring the war to a 
successful issue depended mainly upon the 
success the color-sergeant had in making the 
flag run down at the exact moment the can- 
non was fired. Our ideas of what consti- 
tuted military efficiency were very crude, and 
so were the drills and dress parades, but as 
I now think of it I wonder we did so well. 



THE MAKING OF THE SOLDIER / 

Yet it was no doubt partly accounted for 
by the fact that the War Department had 
loaned us an officer of the regular army, one 
Captain Smith, as military instructor of the 
officers in the details of camp and the rudi- 
ments of military organization. 

There was, as I have intimated, a great 
deal of patriotic feeling at that time, and of 
the most undeniable genuineness too. Be- 
sides great numbers of the sons of well-to-do 
families, there were some who left positions 
yielding good salaries and enlisted as pri- 
vates, the pay being thirteen dollars per 
month. But it was a sort of a fad with 
us then, and in fact all through the war, 
never to mention this motive in camp save in 
jest. Whoever arrogated the highest and 
purest motives, and announced that he en- 
listed because he loved his country, was sure 
to become a target for the shafts of ridicule. 
Even a year or two later, when of a midnight 
we would be making some forced march in 
the rain, nothing would bring such a burst 
of cheerfulness as when a luckless private, 
happening to fall in a slough and not forget- 
ting the sublime American genius for humor, 
would shout, " Hurrah for the Union." Yet 
the sentiment we all ridiculed was genuine 



8 AS SEE AT FROM THE RANKS 

and strong, and continued so throughout the 
war. 

For the present we were rolHcking in the 
novelty of our new Hfe. We were called in 
the morning by a drum concert, and other 
tunes by the same orchestra summoned us to 
our meals and to our duties of various kinds, 
not forgetting the "sick call" for those who 
had eaten too much watermelon. The war, 
though within a day's journey, still seemed 
in the distance, and the probability that we 
should soon be engaged in its conflicts and 
hardships, while fully known, seemed hardly 
to be realized. Just how it was that the 
mirage of enthusiasm in which we lived and 
moved managed to make the future look so 
bright, when in all reason we had nothing to 
look forward to but hardship and danger for 
all, and death for many, is something I do 
not yet fully understand. 

It must be remembered that the summer 
just passed had been a most disheartening 
one for our cause, at least as far as the Army 
of the Potomac was concerned, and that was 
the army on which all in the East seemed to 
keep their eyes fixed. The summer's cam- 
paign had ended by the Confederate invasion 
of Maryland and the battle of Antietam, in 



THE MAKING OF THE SOLDIER 9 

which more Hves were lost in one day than 
in one day of any other battle of the war. 
Its result might have been a great victory 
for us, but it was not. 

It was fought, September 17, 1862, be- 
tween McClellan, commanding the Army of 
the Potomac, and General Lee of the Con- 
federate forces, who, as I have said, had 
invaded Maryland. Accounts of the losses 
are much at variance, but the best authori- 
ties estimate that nearly or quite twenty- 
four thousand men were killed or wounded 
in the two armies between sunrise and four 
o'clock in the afternoon on that fatal day. 
At its close the Confederates still held a part 
of their position. On the following morning 
Lee sent a remarkable request to McClellan; 
he requested that he might have "a day in 
which to bury his dead," which was granted, 
and then he employed the time so obtained 
to escape safely with his army across the 
Potomac, leaving his dead unburied. Mc- 
Clellan had sixteen thousand fresh troops 
which had not been brought into action, and 
to grant such a request when victory was 
within his grasp cannot be explained in any 
way which is creditable to him. 

I can but think now that the tremendous 



10 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

enthusiasm which waxed and grew in the 
North under these most discouraging circum- 
stances was the most hopeful sign of a race 
that would not be disheartened, but rose to 
the occasion with a spirit that meant far 
more than the actors themselves understood. 

Our camp in Poughkeepsie was the star 
attraction of the year and drew immense 
crowds, for every recruit's friends and his 
friends' friends came once, and some of them 
many times to visit us. But the monoto- 
nous "Right dress" and "Front face" had 
hardly become an old story before it was 
rumored in camp that we should start soon. 
Meantime a band had been formed by de- 
tailing from the ranks such as had played in 
some band at home, and I was included in 
the detail. In its first assembling that band 
was something of a medley in its composi- 
tion, and its music at first was far from being 
perfectly harmonious. Still, our music was 
as good for music as the regiment's drill was 
for drill, and as time passed the spirit of 
organization which dominates everything in 
military life perfected both the regiment and 
its band for the respective parts they were 
to act. 

October ii, 1862, there was the final cere- 



THE MAKING OF THE SOLDIER II 

mony by which we were mustered into the 
United States service, and we jovially called 
ourselves "Uncle Sam's boys." Then we 
bade the camp good-by and marched down 
to the Main Street landing, where the boat 
was in waiting. 

It was a time of tense feeling, never wit- 
nessed by those regiments whose members 
were from widely separated localities. As 
we passed through the streets they were 
thronged to our elbows, and I doubt not 
every one of all the crowds had one or more 
friends in the ranks. The excitement was 
manifested in diverse ways. Some shouted 
and hurrahed, while others gave way to 
tears, and through this ecstacy of farewell 
we marched aboard the steamboat, which 
soon swung into the river and headed for 
New York. 

Thus began an experience which for some 
lasted a few months, and for others to the 
close of the war. 




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CHAPTER II 



FROM CAMP TO FIELD 



A Winter in Baltimore — City Camp and Field Camp — 
Short Rations — Fun and Hardship — A Forced 
March — Echoes of Battle. 

IN the southern part of the city of Balti- 
more was an old estate which had for- 
merly belonged to the Stuart family. On 
this property was located an army hospital 
known as "Stuart Hospital." But my prin- 
cipal interest in the locality was in an ad- 
joining camp known as "Camp Millington," 
for this was our first halt after leaving Camp 
Dutchess. Just at the time of our arrival 
one of the family, Gen. J. E. B. Stuart of the 
Confederate cavalry, commonly mentioned 
by his nickname, "Jeb" Stuart, was en- 
gaged in a raid across Maryland into Penn- 
sylvania, and the camp was tenanted only by 
empty tents and the guards walking their 



FROM CAMP TO FIELD 1 3 

beats, for the regiments which had been 
there had gone to assist in repelHng the in- 
vasion. They soon returned, however, hun- 
gry and tired, and resumed camp routine. 
Before long these first tenants of Camp 
MilHngton were placed on board transports 
and taken to New Orleans. In time we also 
were moved to another camp. Camp Belger, 
and as cold weather came on we were fur- 
nished lumber and the regiment built bar- 
racks for winter quarters. 

These were built in a grove of beautiful 
oaks near Druid Hill Park, and were in the 
form of one long two-story building which 
occupied three sides of a hollow square. This 
square thus enclosed had the trees suitably 
thinned out and the stumps cleared away, 
and then became our parade ground. The 
central part of the barracks formed the offi- 
cers' quarters, and several of them sent for 
their families and instituted housekeeping 
with a degree of comfort. The wings were 
fitted into quarters for the enlisted men, each 
company having a section to itself, the up- 
per story having three tiers of bunks, while 
on the first floor was a kitchen and mess 
hall, the latter being provided with tables 
and benches. At this permanent camp our 



14 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

cooking was done by company cooks, but 
never in the field, for there each one cooked 
for himself. 

At one end of the long building which con- 
stituted the barracks was the guard-house, 
where offenders against discipline were con- 
fined for longer or shorter terms for minor 
offences. At the other end was the band 
quarters, and as no cook was assigned to us 
we joined in hiring a man, an escaped slave. 
Besides the moderate wages paid him we did 
a sort of missionary work by teaching him 
to read and write. He made really rapid 
progress, which may have been accounted 
for, partly at least, by the fact that there 
were sixteen teachers to one pupil. 

Some Northern people who visited the 
camp during the winter gave him an oppor- 
tunity to go North and hire out for good 
wages, but not a step would he move in that 
direction. He had a wife within the Con- 
federate lines and he was waiting — waiting — 
in hopes. 

Besides the long building of which I have 
spoken there were several smaller ones to 
accommodate the quartermaster's stores and 
the sutler. 

Now surely our lines had fallen in pleasant 



FROM CAMP TO FIELD 1 5 

places, for we were well provisioned and 
comfortably housed in a large city abound- 
ing in amusements. Great attention was 
given to drill, and with the command " Order 
arms ' ' a thousand muskets would smite the 
ground with a single thud. Yet curiously 
erfough, while it was known that the one de- 
sideratum in battle w^s to hit the enemy, 
very little attention was given to target prac- 
tice. The art of war was still new to our 
officers, and it was the show drill that was 
most highly prized ; but we were to graduate 
from a dearer school. 

As the winter wore away the regiment was 
assigned to guard duty in various parts of 
the city, and it began to look as if we might 
be kept there during our whole term, until 
Lee's invasion of Pennsylvania in the follow- 
ing summer put an end to all such specula- 
tion, and one sultry day in June we hurriedly 
packed the few things we could carry into 
our knapsacks, and bidding the pleasant 
camp good-by, began the life of real soldiers. 

Sudden and strange was the transition 
from camp to field. The knapsacks, haver- 
sacks and canteens, to which we were so un- 
accustomed, galled and tired us exceedingly, 
and when we went into our first camp at 



1 6 AS SEE AT FROM THE RANKS 

nightfall we lay down and drew the little 
tents over us, too tired to try to learn how 
to pitch them. We were on a side-hill so 
steep that it gave me a sensation of being 
dragged down by the heels, and as I dropped 
off to sleep I seemed to be falling off a preci- 
pice. In the night I was awakened by a 
pouring rain which beat in my face, but I 
pulled my cap over it and again dropped 
asleep. In the morning I abandoned my 
blanket and tent, for they, like my clothing, 
were soaked with water and seemed too 
heavy to carry; but I replaced them later 
with similar articles which I picked up on 
the battlefield of Gettysburg. We were each 
given a loaf of bread for the day's ration, and 
then resumed the march. 

In these later wars we read of ' ' company 
cooks," and "details for providing wood and 
water," but these are all luxurious inven- 
tions of a luxurious age. As far as we were 
concerned, from the beginning to the end of 
our campaigns we never had "cooks," but 
every one cooked for himself when there was 
anything to be cooked; and not only that, 
but we also had to find fuel and water, each 
for himself, and it was sometimes necessary 
to finish a hard day by going a mile or more 



FROM CAMP TO FIELD 1 7 

after these indispensable articles. Even uten- 
sils for cooking we had to find as best we 
could, for the government only furnished a tin 
plate and cup with a knife and fork to each. 
It was common for us to piece out our sup- 
ply of kitchen furniture by using tin cans 
which, with their contents, had cost at the 
sutler's a thirteenth of a month's wages each. 

The sutler's store was an institution pro- 
vided for in the organization of the army, 
though I think the sutler was not regularly 
enlisted in the service. He kept a sort of 
department store which accompanied the 
regiment most of the time, both at camp and 
in the field. In our city camp, where every- 
thing was easily obtained at regular stores, 
he was permitted to keep lager beer, and it 
formed the bulk of his trade. By some curi- 
ous reasoning this was supposed to have an 
influence towards temperance, and perhaps it 
did, for if the boys went to the saloons or 
worse places to have a convivial time they 
were likely to encounter still more adverse 
influences. 

But in the field drink could not be included 
in the sutler's stock of goods, which was car- 
ried in a large canvas-topped wagon that was 
permitted a place in the line of army wagons. 



1 8 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

It was then that his prices became exorbi- 
tant; but on the whole the sutler must be 
accounted a blessing. Who cares if con- 
densed milk was a dollar a can and pickles a 
dollar a bottle? The goods were better to 
us than the dollars were — when we had them. 
The sutler's trade was usually active for 
about a week after we had received two or 
three months' pay, and after that it dropped 
nearly to zero. 

It was customary for the men to combine 
in groups of two or three, according to their 
affinities, and thus secure a liti le of the bene- 
fits of division of labor in the domestic ar- 
rangements of the field. Each man carried 
a piece of tent about five feet square, and 
when two of these were buttoned together, 
the middle drawn over a ridge-pole three 
feet from the ground, and the ends pinned 
to the ground, it covered a space about five 
feet by seven. This slight shelter was known 
technically as a "shelter tent," but was usu- 
ally spoken of as a "pup tent." It secured 
neither warmth nor privacy, but it was a 
long way better than nothing to sleep under 
when it rained, and the sticks and pins did 
not have to be carried; they could be pro- 
vided as needed. 



FROM CAMP TO FIELD I9 

I give these details to show how sudden the 
change was from camp to field, but it must 
not be supposed that our spirits were utter- 
ly downcast by these physical discomforts. 
Buoyant youth carries an elixir as exhaustless 
as the widow's cruse and more potent than the 
doctor's pellets; the gift of humor, which 
never failed of finding an outlet. I recall a 
trivial incident of the second day after leav- 
ing Baltimore which will illustrate the point. 

A farmer had seated himself on the fence 
to see us pass. Possibly some one in the 
First Maryland had recognized him and 
called him by name, "Hello, Bill!" That 
was enough: every mother's son when pass- 
ing him shouted, " Hello, Bill!" like a battle- 
cry, and long before the brigade had all 
passed his face had become petrified in a 
mingled expression that would have made 
the fortune of a sculptor who could have 
successfully reproduced it. Such little in- 
cidents, having the least trace of fun or 
humor in them, are immensely relished by 
tired men on the march and have a positively 
refreshing effect. 

This brigade, now on its way to join 
the Army of the Potomac, was under com- 
mand of Brigadier General Lockwood, of the 



20 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

regular army. He usually rode at the head of 
the column with his staff and orderlies, and 
accompanying them was always a mounted 
man carrying a small flag of peculiar shape 
and design. This was the "headquarters 
flag,'* and wherever that flag was, was the 
headquarters of the brigade. 

Now, it happened on one of these sultry 
days that we halted for dinner at a broad 
meadow, in one corner of which was a great 
spreading oak which, with its comfortable 
shade, offered an inviting resting-place. 
What wonder was it that a considerable num- 
ber of men, and at least one of our officers, 
as soon as the order to break ranks was given, 
bent their steps in that direction? To be 
sure the man with the little flag was standing 
there, but what of that? Soon the General 
came riding up on a canter, and seemed to 
be somewhat excited. He had one peculiar- 
ity, and that was that when excited he stam- 
mered furiously. 

He now began : "T-t-t-this 's mum- 
mnm-my he^d-he?id-quarters and when I 
want you I '11 se-se-sen-sen-s^nJ for you. 
I-I-I-" but no one waited to hear the re- 
mainder of the address, and I doubt whether 
it was ever completed. 



FROM CAMP TO FIELD 21 

We had now learned that persons not hav- 
ing business at headquarters are not ex- 
pected to go there unless they are sent for; 
for although we were drilled and instructed 
in the duties of soldiers, there was yet to be 
learned vv^hat may be termed the customs and 
etiquette of field service. It was a long time 
before those men ceased to be twitted on 
their reception at headquarters, and the 
echoes of General Lockwood's stuttering out- 
break served to dispel the gloom of many 
weary hours. But we were comforted a few 
days afterward by noticing that he was never 
excited and never stammered when under 
fire. 

On the afternoon of the third day after 
leaving Baltimore our brigade, which was 
composed, besides our own regiment, of two 
from Maryland, came out on the brow of a 
hill a few miles from Frederick City. Before 
us lay a beautiful valley in which the roads, 
for miles as far as the vision extended, were 
filled with soldiers, horses, canvas-topped 
wagons, and artillery, all moving towards the 
north. We were told that this was the 
Army of the Potomac, and we were surprised 
at its magnitude, but our surprise was pro- 
portionately increased when we learned that 



22 AS SEEN' FROM THE RANKS 

this was the third day it had been passing in 
this wa}^ 

Night closed in, and with the fading of the 
dayhght it was easy to imagine we were look- 
ing out on a great city, for the pleasant pas- 
toral landscape was changed to a fairy-land. 
Lights glimmered among the trees and were 
scattered by thousands over the hill-sides, 
while the evening air pulsed with the strains 
of music and throbbed with drum-beats as we 
sank to sleep. But with the coming of dawn 
the city of a night had folded its walls and 
the roads were thronged again. Night came 
and as before the city of lights was spread 
before us. Another morning came and still 
the roads were thronged with this immense 
army, and before noon our brigade of 2400 
men had marched down the hill, crossed the 
river and become merged in the great mass. 

Then followed days of extreme fatigue, 
made worse by short rations, as we tried to 
keep the marching pace of those veterans. 
On the second of July we were called at day- 
break, and with hardly time to devour the 
very scanty breakfast of hardtack and coffee, 
were ordered to fall in. x\nd now we were 
directed to drop knapsacks, tents and blan- 
kets, or rather such of these articles as were 



FROM CAMP TO FIELD 



23 



still retained, for many of them had already 
been abandoned, and the men were to retain 
only canteens and haversacks besides the 
arms and ammunition. 

We filed along past headquarters, each one 
in turn throwing upon the pile such treasures 
as he had still retained. We were told that 
the things would be forwarded to us by the 
wagons, but war-time is careless of its prom- 
ises, for we never saw them again. 

At 4 A.M. we started at a furious marching 
pace, covering eight miles in two hours. 
Surely there must be some reason for all this 
haste, and it was not long before the cause 
became apparent, for when we were being 
hurried forward with all speed an unwelcome 
rumor spread along the column that a great 
battle had been fought the day before near a 
village called "Gettysburg"; that our army 
had been repulsed there and General Rey- 
nolds killed. 

The rumor proved to be true, except that it 
was only the beginning of a great battle that 
had been fought, and even as the rumor 
reached us it was apparently confirmed by 
the rolling echoes of distant cannonading. 



CHAPTER III 

GETTYSBURG 

Approaching the Conflict— Meeting the Wounded — 
On the Field — Entering the Battle — "How Does 
a Battle Look?" — Work of the Stretcher- Bearers 
— Opening of the Third Day's Battle — Recover- 
ing a Position — Holding Gulp's Hill against 
"Stonewall" Jackson's Veterans. 

AS we neared the field we began to meet 
stragglers from the front. I well re- 
member the first wounded man that passed 
us. His hand and arm were covered with 
blood, and his face and manner denoted ex- 
treme fatigue and suffering. We looked 
from one to another with serious faces which 
expressed what we all felt but no one put in 
words. We now realized we were approach- 
ing the horrors of a real battle. Jesting 
ceased ; a strange silence fell upon the march- 
ing column and we trudged on, less in fear 
of personal danger, I verily believe, than of 
24 



GETTYSBURG 25 

seeing more suffering. Strange that a little 
wound in a man's arm should affect us so. In 
twenty-four hours we were as little moved by 
the sight of wounds and death as the oldest 
veterans. 

When at last we arrived on the field we 
were held in reserve until nearly night. 
The frequent booming of cannon west of us 
told its own story, and an occasional shell 
which missed Cemetery Ridge would come 
howling towards us and bury itself in the 
ground or burst in mid -air. But in the after- 
noon there arose, away off in the southwest, 
a great rattle and roar of rifles, mingled with 
the increasingly frequent booming of cannon. 
This was the struggle near the "Peach 
Orchard," "Wheat Field," and "Round- 
tops." A cloud of sulphurous smoke hung 
above the trees in that direction, and borne 
to us on the sultry smoke-laden air there was 
a significant, and to us a new and peculiar 
sound; a prolonged, fierce, wavering yell, 
gaining in strength and rising higher and 
higher until it finally died away in a scream. 

"What's that?" I enquired of a veteran. 

" Oh, that 's the ' Rebel yell,' " he answered; 
"they're charging now; listen." We lis- 
tened and the sound of musketry broke out 



26 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

thicker and louder: the roar of artillery 
increased, but after a little there came to us 
another sound; three long cheers in ringing 
chest tones. 

"That's our boys," said my veteran 
friend; "the 'Rebs' failed that time." 

Often while the afternoon wore away was 
this experience repeated, and as often were 
the yells and cheers of the contending forces 
borne to our listening ears as the tide of 
battle swayed back and forth. But there 
came a time, just at night, when the enemy's 
yell was no longer answered by the Union 
cheers. It was evident that our line was 
being driven back. Suddenly our brigade 
was ordered to march in great haste to the 
scene of action, we musicians having been de- 
tailed as stretcher-bearers. We started on 
the "double quick," and orders kept coming 
along the line to "Forward," — "Faster," — 
''Faster!'' until we were in the very battle 
itself. 

" How does a battle look? " I imagine some 
young reader is asking. I recall a road and 
fields with fences torn down and scattered; 
trees cut and marred by bullets and shells, 
broken branches hanging down; wounded 
men walking and limping towards the rear, 



GETTYSBURG 2/ 

some sitting or lying on the ground; dead 
men here and there; straggHng members of 
defeated and scattered regiments wandering 
to the rear; a broken gun-carriage. There 
was a battery where the smoke-begrimed 
men were loading and firing across an open 
field, with the automatic movement which 
makes each man appear to be but a part of 
the whole machine, and yet with such a furi- 
ous haste that made them all seem as if they 
were on springs worked by quick-moving 
levers. 

A mounted officer was riding past on a 
gallop when one of the enemy's shells burst 
directly in front of him. His horse, sud- 
denly rearing, half turned, but hard spurred 
dashed through the smoke and passed on. 
There was the incessant roar of rifles, the 
crashing sound of cannon accompanied by 
the peculiar howling roar of shells, and the 
constant ill, th, of bullets. 

Finally there came a halt and rapid form- 
ing of line of battle. In the field before us, 
just skirting the woods, was a long line of 
men in gray, firing continuously. Our own 
line paused a little in forming, then a cloud 
of blue smoke, pierced with a thousand jets 
of flame, sprang from their front, and before 



28 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

the echoes of the volley had died away they 
dashed forward with a cheer. The enemy, 
almost as much exhausted as the troops whom 
they were driving, gave way completely and 
ran scattering through the woods before this 
impetuous charge of fresh men. 

Then followed the stretcher-bearers, tak- 
ing up the wounded and carrying them back 
to the ambulances which conveyed them to 
the field hospitals. Night dropped her sable 
mantle over the scene, but still we worked 
on far into the night, guided in our search by 
cries of pain and calls for help, until at last, 
compelled by pitchy darkness, we paused in 
our labor. We were now unable to find our 
regiment, and, indeed, had lost our sense of lo- 
cality and points of the compass entirely, and 
fearing we might walk unwittingly into the 
enemy's lines, lay down on the blood-stained 
stretchers and fell asleep; but our sleep was 
brief. 

We were awakened at 3 a.m. by a roaring 
sound which ended with an explosion and 
was followed by a scream. From what I 
have since read I believe that it was the first 
shell from the opening gun of the third day's 
battle which had passed over us. It may 
have passed ten feet above us, but I some- 



GETTYSBURG 29 

how got the impression at the time that it 
was not more than ten inches away. Others 
followed in quick succession and the day was 
begun, even at that early hour. We fortu- 
nately soon succeeded in finding the regiment, 
which had been withdrawn from that hill in 
the night, while we were so busy with the 
wounded, and had been taken back to the 
right of the line. 

During the forenoon there was consider- 
able fighting along the whole line, of which 
the infantry occupied about three miles, and 
the cavalry extended it about a mile on each 
flank, making the whole line of battle some 
five miles in length. The peculiar semicir- 
cular form, or "fish-hook shape," as it was 
called, of our infantry line, gave the effect of 
our being apparently surrounded by fighting ; 
there was firing in all directions. 

Then there was the ghastly procession of 
wounded men straggling from the front: 
men with blood streaming down their faces 
and necks ; men using muskets for crutches, 
and some with shattered arms from which 
blood was dripping. Barns, houses and 
shaded yards contained long rows of the 
wounded, waiting for the surgeon's atten- 
tions. Some were unconscious, some already 



30 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

dead, and many bearing their pain in silence 
with a fortitude greater than was needed to 
face danger. 

Our regiment was moved from place to 
place, at one time supporting a battery, and 
at another time fronting a threatened point. 
The 27th Indiana were in our front here. 
They had tried to recover a certain point 
which the enemy had captured on the evening 
before, and had failed, losing in ten minutes 
a third of their number. 

" Do you think you could do any better?" 
the General asks Colonel Ketcham, who is in 
command of our regiment. 

"I don't know, but we'll try if you give 
the word," was the quiet reply. 

" I '11 see what can be done," said the Gen- 
eral as he rode away, and soon after that we 
saw the enemy's difficult point torn and 
ploughed and shattered under the concentra- 
ted fire of the batteries, and when the infantry 
again advanced they yielded and fell back. 

Early in the forenoon of July 3d, our bri- 
gade was put in at Gulp's Hill, taking the 
place of troops which had held the line all 
night. Now, for the first time, our brigade 
and regimental surgeons established them- 
selves, locating their field hospital at the old 



GETTYSBURG 3 1 

stone barn on the Baltimore pike, and I was 
assigned to their direction and began my 
first experience in field hospitals. 

The word hospital brings to the mind of 
the unmilitary reader thoughts of a long 
room, with cots having white sheets. But a 
field hospital is simply a place, generally out- 
of-doors, where the brigade or division sur- 
geons have placed themselves to receive the 
wounded as they are brought from the front, 
and give them such immediate attention as 
is possible. Often these operations and dress- 
ings are the last they receive for several days. 

On the previous day we did not see the 
field hospitals at all, but delivered the 
wounded to the ambulances. But ours now 
established was so near the battle line and so 
much under fire that no attempt was made to 
bring the ambulances up. There was room 
on the barn floor for some of the worst cases 
after their operations, but the others were 
simply laid on the grass. It was in charge of 
Dr. Campbell, the Surgeon of our regiment, 
and there were several other surgeons present 
as his assistants. He was a man well past mid- 
dle life, and many wondered that he should 
undertake the hardships incident to war. I 
have often thought that he may have been 



32 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

prompted to the step as much by his love for 
the boys of his dear home county as he was 
by love of his country, for a kinder hearted 
man never lived. 

He set up his operating-table, which was a 
portable affair, in the open field, and here we 
brought the most severely wounded, one at a 
time, and when we removed them some were 
minus a limb or arm which it had been found 
necessary to amputate. The cases not need- 
ing elaborate operations were attended to 
where they were l^dng, by other surgeons. 
But the dear man handled every patient in a 
fatherly way, as if he were a relative and he 
had a special and personal interest in his case. 
Surely he had his reward, for to his dying 
day, which was long after the war, he had 
the devoted affection of every member of the 
regiment. 

After I had worked in this field hospital for 
some time. Dr. Campbell remarked, " I think, 
Charlie, you 'd better go to the regiment now 
and assist some of the wounded to get back." 

"Where is it. Doctor?" 

"Down in those woods," was the careless 
reply. 

Phrased though it was in the good doctor's 
kind way, the order was not a welcome one. 



GETTYSBURG 33 

"Those woods" were not far distant, and 
wandering missiles from there frequently- 
whizzed past us. Above their tree tops hung a 
cloud of smoke, while from their depths came 
the roar of rifles, rising and falling in tumult 
as the waves of onset rolled against our line, 
or, broken and repulsed, rolled back to gather 
force for the ever-recurring attack. But I had 
absorbed already so much of the army spirit 
that I would not even seem to hesitate, and 
turned my feet at once in that direction. 

I had no difficulty in finding the regiment, 
who were in the line of battle on the southern 
slope of Gulp's Hill, crouched behind a barri- 
cade of logs and branches, and once in the 
line I was rather surprised to find that the 
fear which had haunted me so on the way 
immediately vanished. Yet in each subse- 
quent trip to the regiment, as I came under 
fire I experienced the same shrinking dread 
of the bullets, which all seemed intended for 
me. Their whispering message gives one the 
singular feeling of being soul-naked in their 
presence, and that neither clothing nor body 
would for an instant check their flight. 

Yet curiously, whether from the presence of 
numbers or whatever the cause, each time as 
soon as I reached the regiment this feeling 



34 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

vanished and I felt as much at ease as when at 
the rear. The experience was quite different 
from that of the night before, for then the 
exertion of running while I was burdened 
with the heavy stretcher, in the effort to 
keep up with the column, gave no room for 
thought of danger. 

The ground descended sharply in our front 
here and the enemy's line was not more than 
fifteen or twenty rods distant. The smoke 
had settled so thickly in the heavy timber 
that we could not distinguish them clearly, 
and the spurts of smoke from their guns fur- 
nished the principal indication which showed 
our men where to aim. 

There is courage and courage, but this 
was of a different character from that of the 
day before, when in the excitement and im- 
petus of the charge they had scattered twice 
their number of the enemy, by the very 
"freshness," as one phrased it, of the attack. 
But here we were confronted by " Stonewall " 
Jackson's famous veterans, who had never 
known defeat. They had gained a little 
ground on the evening before and had lost it 
again in the morning, and now were strug- 
gling with an obstinate persistence known to 
no other race, to recover it. The combat 



GETTYSBURG 35 

was long past the excitement stage. It had 
now settled to a resolute test of endurance; 
a grim determination to fight to a finish; a 
primordial test of blood and nerve ; a trying 
of which could longest bear being killed. It 
was a death grapple. Would "Stonewall's" 
invincibles succeed, as they had always suc- 
ceeded, or would it be their first defeat? 

I was struck by the cool and matter-of-fact 
way in which our men were loading and fir- 
ing, while the dead lay at frequent intervals, 
and not infrequently some of our number 
fell. And yet it was but yesterday the same 
men had paled at the sight of a wounded 
man. What magic art had suddenly trans- 
formed these timid youths into hardened 
veterans ? 

Nor was the change less noticeable in the 
field hospitals. Men and boys who but a 
short time before could hardly bear to look 
at any serious injury now carried wounded 
men to the surgeon's table, removed the am- 
putated limbs which gradually accumulated 
in a pile near by, and took part in all the 
sickening details of hospital service; and 
through it all with a cool and easy way as if 
it was a round of duties they had been ac- 
customed to for years. 



36 AS SEEN- FROM THE RANKS 

There was an incident in this struggle at 
Gulp's Hill which illustrates its desperate 
character. At one time a little white cloth 
was seen in front of our regiment. The firing 
slackened at that part of the line to see what 
a white flag meant at such a time, though 
rifles were held at the shoulder, ready for any 
attempted surprise. Presently a straggling 
line of Confederates came running up the 
hill, and, springing over the breastworks, 
gave themselves up as prisoners. There were 
about two hundred of them. 

When questioned as to why they had done 
so they explained that a second line back of 
theirs prevented any possibility of retreat, 
and that the fire of our line had become so 
destructive that they had determined to be- 
come prisoners in this way to escape destruc- 
tion. It had required some planning and 
some daring, for they were obliged to wait 
for a favorable moment when the thickness 
of the smoke concealed them from those in 
the rear, as well as from those at each side. 
When the favorable moment arrived they 
sprang forward and made their escape into 
our line, and they seemed greatly relieved 
when they had accomplished it successfully. 



CHAPTER IV 

THE CRISIS BATTLE OF THE WAR 

Pickett's Grand Charge — Daring Courage of the South 
Breaks against the Firmness of the North — What 
might have Happened — Hope of RepubHcs. 

A LITTLE before noon on that fateful day 
there was a gradual lessening of the 
firing. The artillery ceased entirely, and 
the rifles, though not completely stopped, 
subsided into a rattling skirmish fire. Our 
regiment was withdrawn from the line on 
Gulp's Hill in order to cool their guns, being 
replaced by other troops, and were now rest- 
ing in the edge of the woods. An hour 
passed : what could it mean ? 

"Something 's on foot, you may depend," 
said a veteran ; "the battle 's not ended yet." 

Scarce a breath of breeze swayed the air, 
while the sun passed the meridian and an- 
other hour wore away. 

37 



38 AS SEE AT FROM THE RANKS 

Suddenly there came from beyond Ceme- 
tery Ridge on the west the heavy sound of 
two cannon fired in quick succession. They 
were Lee's signal guns, and before their 
echoes had died away the air was quaking 
and trembling with the sound of one hundred 
and fifty cannon fired as fast as the men could 
work them, and all the variety of projectiles 
then known to warfare were screaming, hiss- 
ing, and roaring towards our devoted line. 
But the noise, and roar, great as it was, was 
soon doubled by the reply of our own artil- 
lery, nearly equal in number of guns. For 
more than an hour we listened to the most 
rapid and heavy cannonading of the whole 
war. 

The explosions followed in such rapid suc- 
cession that they became a continuous roar. 
It was more than deafening; the air seemed 
to lose, under this beating and torture, its 
ordinary capabilities of conveying sound, and 
to become stagnant and paralyzed. The 
events occurring about us became a grand 
pantomime which our eyes could see indeed, 
but in which the sense of hearing took no 
part. An ammunition wagon rumbled heav- 
ily along the stone pike and a mounted cour- 
ier galloped past, the iron of his horse's hoofs 



THE CRISIS BATTLE OF THE WAR 39 

striking fire on the pavement, but to us they 
were silent passers; the clash of iron and 
stone gave no sound that reached the ears: 
our brains were filled with a roar which we 
seemed to feel rather than hear. 

A comrade has since said that he was 
within twenty-five yards of a battery a part 
of that time, and did not know when it was 
fired unless he was looking in that direction. 
And yet there was some peculiar quality in 
this sound carnival, not easily understood. 
It was possible, for instance, for persons 
standing very near together to converse, 
almost in the ordinary tones of voice. Yet 
at the same time the air was absolutely im- 
penetrable by the voice to any distance. 

Another singular thing is that heavy can- 
nonading has a tendency to produce sleepi- 
ness in some persons. As I have said, our 
regiment was resting at this time, and as I 
was at the right of the regimental line I hap- 
pened to sit next to a member of another 
regiment, one which had been in several cam- 
paigns, including that most severe one of all, 
the Peninsular campaign. He had been giv- 
ing me an interesting account of his experi- 
ences when the heavy cannonading began, 
but that suddenly ended his narrative, for he 



40 AS SEE AT FROM THE RANKS 

casually remarked, "That always makes me 
sleepy. Wake me up if my regiment starts, 
will you?" and despite the fact that shells 
were dropping and exploding here and there 
in our immediate vicinity, or ripping through 
the trees above us, he was soon sleeping 
soundly on the grass. 

At last, after an hour or more of this heavy 
cannonading, it began to decrease, and in its 
place there came the sound of more rifle 
firing. Then we knew that another charge 
was being made on our line, and when the 
cannonading had almost ceased there came 
to us again the sound which had grown fa- 
miliar the day before: that long, fierce, 
screaming yell, the battle-cry of the Southern 
army, nearer than it was yesterday and 
louder it seemed. The cannonading ceased 
now and the roar of small arms increased, 
and finally lessened and died away, and when 
the artillery again broke forth it was accom- 
panied by cheer after cheer, and we knew 
that the charge was repulsed. It was not 
until long afterward that we learned the full 
particulars of this charge of Pickett's Divi- 
sion, which has passed into history as the 
turning-point of the battle, and, in fact, of 
the whole war. 



THE CRISIS BATTLE OF THE WAR 4 1 

At this time of the invasion of the North 
by the Confederate army the war had been 
in progress some two years, and during that 
time the South had met with more successes 
on the whole than reverses. They had suc- 
ceeded in a measure in defending their terri- 
tory in the East from our army. What they 
needed most at that time was financial aid 
and foreign recognition. If they could in- 
vade the North and defeat the Northern army 
on its own soil, it would obtain for them both. 
This was what Lee attempted at the battle of 
Gettysburg. If it had succeeded the Con- 
federacy would probably soon have been 
recognized by every nation in Europe, and 
financial aid would have been proffered in 
abundance. If he failed — well, he did fail. 

Looking back from this date it seems a 
wonder that we succeeded. The Southern 
army was combined under an able leadership, 
with more experienced officers having West 
Point educations than our army contained, 
and under a supreme commander of known 
ability in whom they had the most enthusi- 
astic confidence. On the other hand our 
army was frequently thwarted by a change 
of commanders and hampered and harassed 
by a meddlesome War Department. This, 



42 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS- 

with the further fact that its ardor was dam- 
pened by lack of substantial success, while 
the higher officials seemed many times to be 
more influenced by political considerations, 
or personal spite and jealousy, than by real 
desire for the success of the government, was 
a heavy handicap. 

It seemed as if the hope of the Republic 
must be, as the hope of republics must always 
be, in the people themselves. And when the 
battle was finally won it was won more by 
the quality of the citizen soldiers than 
through any talent of generalship. 

On this last day of the battle, when Lee 
found that all his efforts of the morning to 
force any part of our line had failed, he con- 
cluded to make one final desperate charge on 
the very centre of our army, and if possible 
to break into and crush it, leaving the North 
with its cities and wealth defenceless against 
his farther progress. The prelude to this 
charge was the cannonading I have described. 

Then from out of the woods west of Ceme- 
tery Ridge were marshalled the forces for the 
charge, in line of battle, line back of line, all 
fresh men that had not taken part in the 
conflict; the very flower and pick of the 
Southern army. What supreme devotion to 



THE CRISIS BATTLE OF THE WAR 43 

a commander's orders ! What sublime cour- 
age! They must march through open fields 
up a rising ground for nearly a mile before 
they could begin to fight; and during the 
whole distance the}^ must be exposed to the 
fire of over one hundred pieces of artillery, 
and of rifles too, as soon as they were within 
range. 

The story of this magnificent charge has 
been often told: how they advanced in 
spite of the fearful carnage in their ranks, 
until their front line finally plunged, with the 
fierce yell we had heard so plainly, upon our 
line. That was the supreme hour of the 
Confederacy; that yell marked the acme of 
its power. It was Slavery's demand to the 
world, and if it succeeded it seemed as if the 
world must bow down to Slavery. 

Lee had counted with a just confidence on 
the dashing courage of his men, but there was 
a staying quality in the Northern army that 
he had not estimated at its full value. And 
so when his front line actually broke into our 
front ranks, as he could plainly see with his 
field -glass from the tower of the old seminary, 
from which point he watched the action, he 
expected to see our soldiers flee like sheep 
in all directions. Instead of which, to his 



44 ^^ SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

dismay, he saw them close in upon three 
sides of his invading force at short range, 
even finally using bayonets, clubbed muskets, 
and swords. This struggle at close quarters 
is thought to have lasted about ten minutes. 

Of the whole number who joined in that 
attack many were killed and wounded on the 
way, while others broke and ran before reach- 
ing our lines ; but of those who actually came 
to close quarters with our force none re- 
turned. Some were taken prisoners, the rest 
were slain, and where they fell and are buried 
there was buried race slavery in America ; for 
this was the turning point of the war, and 
from this time on the course of the Confed- 
eracy was a downward course until the cause 
of slavery was "the lost cause." 

Thus ended the charge and thus ended the 
most important battle of the century. 




CHAPTER V 



AFTER THE BATTLE 



Emotions in Battle — Quality of Courage — Gettysburg 
the Greatest Battle, both in Importance and in 
Loss of Life — Greatest Regimental Losses Known 
to History. 

ONE of our younger writers made himself 
a name and notoriety, at least, by a 
single book, and that a small one. It pur- 
ports to relate the experience of a private 
soldier during a two days' battle, and a very 
large proportion of that experience is the 
boy's own highly wrought emotions under 
new and trying conditions. The book re- 
ceived favorable notice, both in this country 
and abroad; and, most singular of all, some 
of those asserting its truthfulness to real life 
are men who have been through their dozen 
or more of battles and may be presumed to 
know something whereof they speak. 

45 



46 .4 3 SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

Yet after the book had received this high 
commendation it chanced that its author be- 
came attached to the volunteer army in the 
late Spanish-American war. It was said that, 
to his own astonishment and mortification, 
he found the reality did not much resemble 
the pen pictures of his imagination. 

My own position as a non-combatant in 
the army gave me exceptional opportunities 
for observation not enjoyed by either officers 
or privates in the line, or by those whose duty 
it was to remain always at the rear. Except 
for this I should hesitate to criticise the all 
but unanimously favorable judgment passed 
upon this product of the imagination, — for 
the writer admitted to never having had ex- 
perience of war at that time, and the book, 
with all its vivid recount of emotions experi- 
enced, was evolved entirely from his own 
consciousness. 

In spite of what writers have imagined and 
historians have recorded, in spite of what 
veterans think their emotions were because it 
seems to be considered that such emotions 
would have been suitable to the occasion, I 
do not hesitate to differ from them all. Upon 
first entering an engagement and durmg 
special crises, there are doubtless a few mo- 



AFTER THE BATTLE 47 

ments of much excitement, but this quickly 
disappears and in the strain of a hard and 
persistent battle highly wrought emotions 
are the exception and not the rule. Instead 
of excitement, the great underlying motive 
of action at such times is a deep and strong 
sense of duty, greatly reinforced and strength- 
ened by military discipline and resting upon 
stability of character as its basis. 

For my own part, I confess to a feeling of 
disappointment in my first and each succeed- 
ing experience of battle scenes. Not that 
the occurrences were less dreadful than I had 
expected, for they even exceeded my antici- 
pations. The effect upon myself was not to 
increase the height of feeling in proportion, 
however, but rather the reverse, the con- 
sciousness seeming to instinctively accept the 
prevailing conditions and adjust itself to 
those conditions. 

I had seen a crushed finger and an injured 
arm, and had even witnessed a death, and had 
often wondered how it would seem to have 
the emotions experienced on those occasions 
multiplied a thousandfold; wondered what 
my sensations would be were I to witness a 
thousand persons with bruised and broken 
members, or dead and dying. Yet when I 



48 ^S SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

did witness such scenes I discovered — though 
I did not formulate it then — that it is the 
unusual, the exceptional, which impresses 
our feelings. As numbers multiply the emo- 
tions are dissipated until by the very magni- 
tude of the calamity the mind unconsciously 
accepts the occurrences as the natural order 
of events and devotes itself to whatever work 
it may have at hand, as to any ordinary 
occupation. 

Thus when we met the first wounded man 
my emotions reached their highest pitch, and 
I saw the faces of those about me blanch with 
fear, dread, and pity. Yet within twenty- 
four hours I saw a man's limbs torn from his 
body by a cannon shot and men killed in 
numbers, and I assisted at the amputation 
table for hours, without any of those emotions 
of dread and horror that we are apt to con- 
sider as inseparable from such scenes. 

In regard also to the question of physical 
courage, so necessary a quality in battle, I 
often find the crudest opinions expressed. I 
think it is commonly supposed that men are 
sharply divided into two classes, — those who 
are afraid and those who are not ; or, as it is 
more commonly expressed, "The brave ones 
and the cowards." Save for a few abnormal 



AFTER THE BATTLE 49 

exceptions it would be much more nearly cor- 
rect to say that all men belong to both classes. 
When about to take part in an engagement, 
and during a little while after getting well 
under fire, there enters an unpleasant and 
unwelcome thought that one may soon be 
numbered among the dead, or be one of those 
whose sufferings were such a common sight. 
But in this case as in the others the mind 
instinctively adjusts itself to the prevailing 
conditions, and, without losing the thought 
of danger, yet becomes to a degree indifferent 
to it. The '' scare feeling" is soon gone, and 
thenceforth it is that dominant sense of duty 
of which I have spoken which holds the 
reins. 

The battle was ended with that great 
charge, though we did not know it then. An 
obscure village, the trading centre of an old 
farming district, which had stood unchanged 
for a century, had sprung suddenly to a pin- 
nacle of fame, and wherever the greatest 
battle of the greatest war of a century noted 
for its great achievements is mentioned, 
there will be heard the name of Gettysburg. 
Not only was the battle greatest in its loss of 
life, but it was greatest also in its issue as the 
turning-point of the war. 



50 AS SEEM FROM THE RANKS 

The numbers of the opposing forces were 
about equal, being variously estimated at 
from 75,000 to 85,000 on each side. The 
losses were very large, not only in the aggre- 
gate, but also in proportion to the number 
engaged. Our loss in the number of those 
who were killed or died of their wounds was 
5291; and those who were wounded must 
have swelled the total to nearly or quite 
18,000. It is supposed that the enemy's loss 
was considerably the larger, owing to the fact 
that theirs was the attacking force. So it 
will be seen that the losses of both sides in 
killed and wounded were more than Washing- 
ton ever had under his command at any one 
time during the Revolution. Startling as 
these casualties of an army may appear, the 
record of the losses of individual regiments 
is almost beyond belief. 

Just at sundown on July 2d, when our bri- 
gade was being hurried to the fray, was a 
critical point in the nation's life. The enemy 
had discovered a weak place in our line and 
were hurrying a whole division in there to 
seize the point of vantage, and had they suc- 
ceeded it might have won for them the battle. 

It fell to the ist Minnesota Volunteer In- 
fantry to hold this large force at bay, at all 



AFTER THE BATTLE 5 1 

hazards, until reinforcements should arrive. 
They not only did this, but met the attack 
half way by a counter charge in which they 
captured a stand of the enemy's colors. But 
what was the price of such valor? In the 
short five or ten minutes which it took us to 
reach the place on a run, more than four 
fifths of their number were killed or wounded. 
This is the largest percentage of casualties 
recorded of any regiment in any one battle 
(save that of one Confederate regiment on 
the next day), either here or in Europe, and 
it is worthy of note that at the close of the 
engagement none were ''missing"; all save 
the dead and wounded answered the roll- 
call, for not a man had flinched from that 
deadly crisis. 

It was probably the wounded from that 
now famous regiment that we carried from 
the field when we worked so late that night, 
for I do not remember that my own regi- 
ment lost any men at that time. 

To further illustrate, we may compare this 
action with some others which have attained 
to a place in history, and for this purpose 
I cannot do better than to quote a paragraph 
from that painstaking statistician, Col. Wil- 
liam F. Fox, as follows : 



52 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

"Take the charge of the Light Brigade at 
Balaklava. Its extraordinary loss has been 
made a familiar feature of heroic verse and 
story in every land, until the whole world has 
heard of the gallant Six Hundred and their ride 
into the valley of Death. Now as the brigade 
accomplished nothing in this action, — merely 
executed an order which was a blunder, — it must 
be that it was the danger and its attendant loss 
which inspired the interest in that historic ride. 
What was the loss? The Light Brigade took 
637 officers and men into that charge; they lost 
113 killed and 134 wounded; total 247, or 36.7 
per cent." 

It will be noticed that this is less than half 
the percentage of loss scored by the Minne- 
sota regiment, and the Light Brigade accom- 
plished nothing at that. At Gettysburg 
there were twenty different regiments in our 
army who lost in killed and wounded more 
than half their number who were present for 
duty, so it will be seen that this battle was 
phenomenal in many respects. 

The burial of these thousands in hot July 
weather was necessarily very hastily done, 
but in the following year a national cemetery 
was established there, and our dead, as many 
at least as could then be found, were removed 



AFTER THE BATTLE 



53 



thither. It was at the dedication of this 
cemetery that Lincoln, with his rare genius 
for giving the most beautiful expression to 
the nation's best thought, delivered that 
epitome of the principles of representative 
government which has become the classic of 
the century. 




CHAPTER VI 



FROM PENNSYLVANIA TO THE POTOMAC 



Aftermath of the Strife — The Price of Valor — Acres of 
Dead Men — Phenomena of Death in Battle — 
Repulsive Appearance of the Battlefield — A 
Forced March — Again Facing the Enemy. 

FOR forty-eight hours we had been with- 
out food. With the fatigue and loss of 
sleep, and the pouring rain which began on 
the night of July 3d and soaked us to the 
skin, this was not calculated to raise the 
spirits. But with the coming of morning 
the news suddenly spread that the enemy 
had retreated during the night. 

Perhaps the reader imagines us now throw- 
ing up our caps and shouting in exultation 
over the victory, but nothing of the kind 
occurred. Doubtless every one in the whole 
army was as heartily glad as I was myself; 
but, for one thing, the physical condition of 
54 



PENNSYLVANIA TO THE POTOMAC 55 

the men forbade it. When poor humanity is 
reduced to that condition in which food and 
a dry place to He on seem the only desirable 
things in life, there is small likelihood that 
men will burst out in ecstatic demonstration. 

And then, too, there was the other fact 
that not a regiment but had lost valuable 
members, and scarce a man in our whole 
army there who had not lost friends and ac- 
quaintances. Besides this there was also the 
constant presence of the wounded. Turn 
which way we might there was always suffer- 
ing before us, for even then they had not 
all received the surgeon's attentions. How 
could there be great outward demonstrations 
of rejoicing in such surroundings? The in- 
nate delicacy of manhood forbade it. 

My regiment remained near there, not far 
from our field hospital, until nearly night on 
July 4th, and I secured time in the course of 
the day to visit a little of the field. My first 
visit was to that portion which the enemy 
had occupied near Gulp's Hill, confronting 
our own brigade. "Stonewall" Jackson's 
old corps was commanded by Ewell at that 
time, for it was after Jackson's death, and it 
was they who had faced us here. Again and 
again they had attempted to force our line 



56 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

back, as I had witnessed on the previous day, 
and had been defeated in every attempt, 
and now we could see what their courage had 
cost them. One could have walked on dead 
men over acres of that ground in any 
direction. 

For the most part the dead were lying on 
their backs with wide-open expressionless 
eyes. In a few instances the features were 
drawn and distorted in a manner which gave 
an expression of great pain and horror. I 
supposed at the time that the victims had 
suffered very painful deaths, but after ex- 
periences convinced me that the expression of 
features after death gives no clue whatever to 
the presence or absence of pain before death 
takes possession. 

I remember one instance in particular in 
which a man had either walked or crawled to 
a considerable distance away from the line 
before he finally lay down beside the fence 
where he died. His eyes were closed, per- 
haps by some comrade who thus gave him 
his last attention. His wounds were such 
that his must have been a lingering, painful 
death, and yet there rested on his features 
such a pleasant and delightfully happy smile 
as to make one think for the moment that it 



PENNSYLVANIA TO THE POTOMAC 57 

was the expression of happy thoughts and 
dreams not even extinguished by death. 

The phenomena of death in battle has re- 
ceived more or less scientific attention, but I 
doubt whether all its features are yet fully 
explained. For one thing, it is claimed that 
under some conditions sudden death leaves 
the body rigid and motionless in the exact 
position it was in at the moment of death, 
and one writer has given an instance of a sol- 
dier who was killed while he was in the act of 
mounting his horse, and remained standing 
with one foot on the ground and the other in 
the stirrup until the line came up. Only one 
instance of this character came under my 
own observation at Gettysburg. 

A man — as it happened, a neighbor and 
acquaintance of mine, John P. Wing of Com- 
pany A — was shot in or near the heart while 
standing. Falling forward on his hands and 
knees his fingers closed tightly on the leaves 
and twigs, and it was probably in that atti- 
tude that death reached him. Although he 
rolled slowly to one side and finally turned 
completely on his back, yet his limbs and 
arms retained the same relative position, his 
hands still clasping the leaves and twigs, and 
it seemed to be one of those instances, oftener 



58 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

heard of than seen, in which every fibre of the 
body became suddenly rigid at the instant of 
death. 

I recall another instance which occurred a 
year later at Resaca, Ga. After that battle 
there was found among the Confederate dead, 
which lay so thickly in front of our regiment, 
one of them who had taken position on his 
hands and knees behind a tree for shelter. 
He was probably killed instantly in that posi- 
tion, and when found was rigid in death, still 
on his hands and knees, and with head turned 
to one side and wide-open eyes seemed to be 
still looking for his comrades. 

On that part of the field of which I have 
spoken, among the dead was an officer of 
rank, said to be one of Ewell's staff officers. 
His horse also lay there, and the officer's dead 
hand still clasped the bridle. Afterward sev- 
eral different persons told me of having shot 
this particular man. The fact was that the 
smoke of battle settling in the heavy timber 
here had greatly obscured the lines from each 
other. This officer was riding along the line 
when a puff of wind lifted the smoke and 
brought him into full view for an instant, and 
in that instant both he and his horse were 
pierced by many bullets. 



PENNSYLVANIA TO THE POTOMAC 59 

But aside from the isolated instances which 
each had some quaUty of interest for the ob- 
server, there was much in these aftermaths 
of the strife that was repulsive to the last 
degree. At one stage of the battle a portion 
of the enemy's forces a little farther south, in 
the position which the 27th Indiana had tried 
to take, suffering so heavily in the attempt, 
had been furiously shelled by our batteries, 
and some of the results of this bombardment 
could now be seen. Their position was such 
as to make it possible for artillery to work 
its most fearful havoc, — a large force closely 
formed in a hollow, — and the partially en- 
filading fire had been very destructive. 

Men who have fallen by bullets often show 
no external mark to the casual observer; 
they are simply men who were alive but now 
are dead. But these victims of the shell 
and canister showed the human form torn 
and disfigured beyond description. In one 
case I noticed the hand, now stiffened in 
death, still clasped against the protruding 
entrails where the jagged fragment of a shell 
had torn open the abdominal cavity. 

In another instance I remember the whole 
front of the chest of a large man had been 
literally torn away, exposing to view its 



6o AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

interior, including the heart and lungs. One 
had climbed into a tall tree to do the sharp- 
shooter act, and when killed his foot had 
caught in a crotch and he now hung, head 
downward, from the limb. 

All were bloating and blackening in the 
July heat, and the air was filled with that in- 
describably sickening odor never found save 
on a summer battlefield. Trees cut and 
mangled in their full leafage; thousands of 
camp-fires, from which ascended the smoke 
and steam of wet, burning wood and blood- 
saturated clothing; the putrefaction of hu- 
man and animal remains ; all combined and 
blended to assail, lest the sight should not 
be sufficient, the sense of smell as well. So 
when we had finally laid at rest our little 
group of heroes, whose first battle had been 
their last, it was not an unwelcome order by 
which we turned our backs on the scene and 
wearily took up the pursuit of the retreating 
foe. 

In connection with this battle I have often 
wondered whether the Commanding General 
knew of some things that every private, at 
least in our brigade, knew of. For one thing, 
that heavy cannonading previous to Pick- 
ett's grand charge must have exhausted the 



PENNSYLVANIA TO THE POTOMAC 6 1 

enemy's store of artillery ammunition, and 
our men knew of it and talked of it at the 
time. Short sections of railroad iron were 
among the curiosities of projectiles that were 
hurled among us, and once a large stone 
struck a tree directly over my head, the 
pieces dropping to the ground about me. 
This fact of a shortage of artillery ammuni- 
tion with the enemy would have had a 
great bearing upon the results of the move- 
ments which Meade might have made at the 
time of Lee's retreat across the Potomac, but 
which he failed to make. 

It was night when we started and we went 
but a few miles, reaching the vicinity of 
Littletown, Penn., and here we halted and 
made camp. The next day we moved a 
short distance farther and again halted. Of 
this camp I have small recollection, for after 
supper I sank on the ground in a dreamless 
sleep. It was said that the bugle sounded 
reveille at 2 a.m. the next morning, but I did 
not hear it ; yet the results of that over-sleep 
made such an impression upon my subcon- 
scious self that never again in my whole 
term of service, no matter what my previous 
fatigue, did I fail to promptly awaken in re- 
sponse to the morning call of the bugle. 



62 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

When I did awaken an hour later it was 
just in time to hear the imperative com- 
mand, "Fall in," and, catching together my 
things as best I could, I made a run for my 
place in the line. Unfortunately I was thus 
started, breakfastless, on what is known in 
the army as a "forced march." For infan- 
try sixteen miles a day was then called a 
''regular" day's march, but on this occasion 
we covered thirty miles before noon, reaching 
the vicinity of Frederick City. Most of the 
way was over one of the famous Maryland 
stone pikes, and though nothing could fur- 
nish a better road for artillery and wagon 
trains, yet the sharp stone surface continu- 
ally indenting the soles of the shoes for so 
many weary hours, in my own case and in 
that of many others, caused intense pain in 
the feet and limbs. One droll fellow de- 
scribed the sensation as "a jumping tooth- 
ache in both feet." 

After leaving Frederick City we passed 
westward over the South Mountain range, 
entering the Cumberland Valley. This was 
the valley in which Lee's army was trying to 
escape back to Virginia, harassed all the way 
by the cavalry and threatened at every pass 
by the infantry. The enemy must have 



PENNSYLVANIA TO THE POTOMAC 63 

passed when we reached the valley west of 
South Mountain, and we followed on with 
the army in pursuit. In due course of time 
we came up with the Confederate forces, 
where they were trying to cross the Potomac 
in the vicinity of Williamsport. 




CHAPTER VII 



ON THE POTOMAC 



Scenery of Western Maryland — Interviewing a Scout — 
Enemy Escaped — Whose the Fault — Night March 
in Storm and Darkness — Harper's Ferry. 

WESTERN Maryland is divided across 
from north to south by successive 
ridges of the Alleghany Mountains, and be- 
tween these ridges lie valleys of some of the 
finest farming lands in the East. The Cum- 
berland Valley is one of these, and is in fact, 
but a northern extension of the Shenandoah 
Valley, though the two are divided by the 
Potomac River. I remember it as one of the 
pleasantest pastoral landscapes that I have 
ever seen, for it was entirely lacking in the 
dead uniformity of the western farm scenes. 
Though there were wide stretching fields roll- 
ing away in the distance, yellow with unhar- 
vested wheat, there were also wooded lands, 
-64 



ON THE POTOMAC 65 

rocky ridges, uplands, roads winding along 
pleasant streams, cascades and dells, and 
comfortable homesteads nestling among the 
shade trees and orchards. 

Williamsport is a small town near the nar- 
rowest part of Maryland, just where the 
Potomac River begins its southeastward 
course which takes it past Harper's Ferry to 
Washington. 

When we arrived there preparations were 
already being made, by the rapid building of 
earthworks in well selected positions, for a 
battle which seemed to be impending. Many 
of these earthworks had in their front an 
entangled chevaux-de-frise of felled forest, 
with gaps conveniently arranged where 
masked batteries could easily enfilade an 
assaulting force. These carefully prepared 
lines were said to be some seven miles in 
length, with their ends resting on the Poto- 
mac, and in their semicircular sweep enclosing 
Lee's army where it was crossing. The enemy 
on their part, we could plainly see, were build- 
ing similar defences against assault, while be- 
tween the armies were the two long skirmish 
lines continually banging at each other. 

Skirmish lines and picket lines do for 
armies a service not unlike that performed 



66 AS SEE AT FROM THE RANKS 

for the insect tribe by their antennae: they 
are thrown out to feel for what cannot be 
seen. So an army never rests without throw- 
ing out a circle of pickets beyond the out- 
skirts, who watch to guard against surprise 
while the army sleeps. 

But when in the immediate presence of the 
enemy or in actual contact, as was now the 
case, these out-guards are known as a skir- 
mish line. It sometimes happened that they 
were placed so near the enemy that they 
could not reach the spot except in darkness, 
and then could not be relieved by others until 
night came again. It was not uncommon in 
such circumstances for the soldier, as soon as 
he was placed, to begin the construction of 
a little fortification of his own. Digging up 
the earth with his bayonet he would shovel it 
out with his tin plate or cup, and before 
daylight came would have a hole large enough 
to sit or lie down in, and protected by a 
mound of earth in its front. 

The men told me that in this way they 
sometimes got so near the enemy's pickets as 
to converse with them, and even under favor- 
able circumstances to strike up a temporary 
truce in which they would trade coffee for 
tobacco, perhaps, and ''swap lies." 



ON THE POTOMAC 67 

These opposing skirmish Hnes, which we 
could see so plainly, were in open fields, and 
within such easy range of each other that 
neither side attempted to relieve the men by 
daylight. It was rumored that the enemy 
was crossing the river under great difficulties, 
and that a vigorous attack while they were 
thus at a disadvantage would insure us a 
substantial victory. A veteran who had 
studied the occult signs of war with the same 
shrewdness with which the Yankee farmer 
reads the portents of weather in the sky told 
me he believed Lee's army was retreating, 
for he never knew their skirmish line to fire 
so rapidly and incessantly except when their 
army was in retreat. 

I saw and conversed with one of our 
scouts, a farmer-like appearing man mounted 
on a plain-looking horse. He was in reality 
a spy, and had he been caught by the enemy 
would undoubtedly have been hung. He 
told me that he had just returned from a trip 
in which he passed completely through Lee's 
army, entering on one side and coming out 
on the other. He said that the rains had 
swelled the Potomac to such an extent that 
the Confederates were crossing with great 
difficulty, the men wading nearly to their 



68 AS SEEA^ FROM THE RANKS 

arms in the water and carrying their guns 
and accoutrements above their heads to keep 
them from being submerged. 

If Lee's army had been attacked while in 
this partially helpless position of being on 
both sides of a swollen river, he must surely 
have suffered a severe defeat. This was well 
known and commented upon in the ranks, 
and every one hoped the attack would be 
made. 

It may be thought by some that an un- 
known person represented himself to me as a 
"scout," and had entertained himself by re- 
lating fairy tales in regard to things which he 
had not seen, when, if he really had the 
information alleged he should have reported 
it to headquarters instead of retailing his gos- 
sip to privates and musicians. But he told 
me that he had already reported fully at 
Meade's headquarters, and that his duty for 
the time being was ended. 

Subsequent events and all the light which 
history has shed upon this epoch have con- 
vinced me that the statements which he 
made in our somewhat lengthy conversation 
were true in every detail. 

"Why was not the attack made?" This 
is a question which has been asked many 



ON THE POTOMAC 69 

times, but those who were responsible for the 
lack of action never answered it satisfacto- 
rily, and most of those who might have done 
so have long since passed away. The prob- 
able reason is that Lee's prestige of success 
up to the time of that invasion had to a cer- 
tain extent made Meade, who was new in the 
command of the army, over-cautious in his 
ventures. The furnace of war had not yet 
presented to the nation its trio of real military 
chieftains. A year later, with either Grant, 
Sherman, or Sheridan given such an oppor- 
tunity, Lee's army would have been destroyed 
and the war ended. 

So we sat idly for days in our camps, with 
our silent artillery within easy range of the 
enemy's lines, while they safely escaped into 
Virginia again. Then in darkness and a 
furious storm we had sudden orders to march, 
and, hastily furling our things, shouldered the 
knapsacks and plunged through the night 
and rain into an invisible landscape. The 
roads were but swimming beds of mortar 
from the heavy rainfall and the passage of 
armies, and when we essayed to cross the 
fields the rich soil, if not yet as soft, furnished 
a deeper mud. The furious night tempest 
now blotted out earth and sky and we 



70 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

struggled blindly on, each being guided solely 
by his file leader. How long this struggle 
with the earth and elements continued I can- 
not tell, but it must have been for several 
hours. 

By some break in the lines a dozen or more 
of us finally got separated from the regiment, 
and were without any clew whatever by 
which we could find it. At last we discov- 
ered a comparatively dry place by a fence and 
lay down in a row with our heads towards it, 
hoping to get a little sleep. But we had 
hardly got settled before we heard the sound 
of horsemen riding towards us. "Tim" 
Beach was on the end of the row towards 
them, and as they came near, fearing that we 
might be ridden over, he shouted, "Halt!" 
The horses stopped with suddenness, and 
then we heard the clicking of pistols being 
cocked. 

"Who comes there?" called a voice from 
the darkness. 

"Friends," answered Tim, for such was 
the usual reply to that challenge. 

"What regiment?" demanded the voice 
from the darkness. 

" 150th New York," was the reply. 

"All right," came back in gentler tones, and 



ON THE POTOMAC /I 

then we heard the murmur of voices as they 
approached slowly. We learned that they 
were couriers, or "orderlies," as they were 
generally called, bound on military errands 
to some part of the army, and when first 
challenged thought they had stumbled in the 
darkness upon a squad of the enemy. 

But the longest night has an end, and this 
night, which I remember more as a night- 
mare than as a reality, also saw the day 
dawn. Faint with fatigue, water soaked and 
mud soaked, we leaned against the fence, 
wondering what we should do to find the 
regiment, when, — "Speak of angels and you 
hear the rustle of their wings!" — here was 
the regiment coming down the road. They 
had halted but a short distance beyond 
where we stopped and were now, in obe- 
dience to orders just received, on their way 
back to our former position. 

With the game escaped there was nothing 
for us to do but to resume the monotonous 
daily tramping which, following the general 
course of the river, brought us in tim.e to the 
vicinity of Harper's Ferry. We followed the 
towpath of the canal on the north bank of 
the river, and, passing beneath the towering 
peak known as Maryland Heights, went into 



72 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

camp for a few days in a little side valley 
known as Pleasant Valley. This gave me an 
opportunity to visit the renowned place just 
across the river. 

Harper's Ferry is a post village on the 
southern side of the Potomac and on the west- 
em bank of the Shenandoah River, which, 
flowing northward, here enters the larger 
stream. The village, with narrow streets 
and compactly built, is enclosed on a penin- 
sula between the two rivers, immediately be- 
low which, with their united force, they 
break through the great range of the Blue 
Ridge. This river pass in the mountains 
presents scenery which has impressed many 
visitors with its grandeur and beauty and its 
marvellous majesty. Jefferson declared it 
to be "one of the most stupendous scenes in 
nature, and well worth a voyage across the 
Atlantic to witness." In the alternate occu- 
pation of the place by the two opposing 
armies the bridge from Maryland to Harper's 
Ferry had been destroyed, but an army pon- 
toon bridge furnished a very good substitute. 

We found the most interesting object to be 
the old engine-house with its iron doors, 
where John Brown had made his last stand. 
He had knocked out bricks here and there, 



ON THE POTOMAC 73 

forming embrasures through which with his 
rifles to defend his Httle castle. The holes 
had been filled with new bricks, but the dif- 
ference in color showed plainly. 

As the only definite and organized stand 
for liberty the African race have ever made 
in this country the epoch is well worth the 
historian's careful attention, and the place 
itself is of more than ordinary interest. The 
fanatical and visionary character of the 
scheme may well be overlooked in bringing 
the homage we all must grant to those whose 
lofty courage impelled them to confront, 
singled handed almost, the great and aggres- 
sive evil in whose hands the nation then 
seemed like dough. In the awakening which 
it gave to the country it is not unlikely that 
this incident was a more potent final influ- 
ence than it has been credited with being. 




CHAPTER VIII 

• VIRGINIA 

Entering Confederate Territory — Snicker's Gap, with 
Feasts of Blackberries — Distant View of the Shen- 
andoah Valley — Sickness in Camp — Coincidence 
— The Gravestone of a Northern Girl Stops the 
Bullet Aimed at a Northern Soldier. 

AT this Pleasant Valley camp there was a 
readjustment of our organization. Up 
to this time we had been brigaded with two 
Maryland "home regiments" ; " Not to leave 
the State except in case of invasion," as 
Artemas Ward humorously said in reference 
to his company. As a matter of fact these 
two regiments were enlisted to serve north 
of the Potomac only, so they were now to 
return to their homes. 

One of them, the ist Maryland Home Bri- 
gade, was largely recruited in Baltimore, and 
the ist Maryland Confederate also contained 

74 



VIRGINIA 75 

many members from the same city. The 
position of our brigade at Gettysburg in the 
long conflict at Gulp's Hill was such that 
these two regiments confronted each other, 
and the members of our ist Maryland found 
several acquaintances among the Confederate 
dead after the battle, one man finding his 
brother among the slain. 

I will not w^eary my readers with any un- 
due ' ' ponderosity of particularity ' ' in regard 
to army organization, except to explain that 
several regiments, usually five or six, con- 
stituted a brigade; three or four brigades 
made a division, and generally three divi- 
sions formed an army corps. There was a 
system of small flags, one carried with each 
headquarters, which showed at a glance to 
which organization each headquarters be- 
longed. 

In the new adjustment we became per- 
manently incorporated in the Army of the 
Potomac, an army which soon began its 
southward march again. It was several days 
in crossing the river here on the pontoon 
bridge, and by going a short distance from 
our camp to the brow of the hill we could see 
the mingled and changing column winding 
down the hills, crossing the bridge, and dis- 



76 AS SEEN- FROM THE RANKS 

appearing in the town, only to appear again 
as they crossed the Shenandoah and again 
disappear in the mountain beyond. 

When we think of armies we are apt to 
think of them as being mostly composed of 
men, but some portions of the army were 
much more conspicuous than the men. At 
one time we would see a string of the large, 
white canvas-covered wagons, each drawn by 
six mules, that would be an hour or two in 
crossing. Then would come a column of in- 
fantry, the men marching in what is known 
in army phrase as "route step," which is four 
abreast, the men not attempting exact order, 
but going in a free-and-easy way, each one 
keeping somewhere near his place in the line. 
The fragment of infantry would perhaps 
occupy a mile or more of the road, and be- 
hind them would be a battery of artillery, 
with its cannon, cassions, and wagons, each 
drawn by six horses. 

Then perhaps a company or two of cavalry 
would follow, — though most of these were 
generally kept in the advance, — then infantry 
again, then more wagons, etc., constituting a 
mixed and heterogeneous throng in which the 
wagons were the most conspicuous, and the 
men the least so of it all. 



VIRGINIA 77 

In a few days our turn came to join the 
forward movement, and, wending our way 
down the hill and through the gorge, we 
headed for the swinging and dancing pontoon 
bridge by which we were to cross into Con- 
federate territory. When midway of the 
bridge I glanced upward to the towering 
mountains before us, and silhouetted against 
the sky far above their highest peak was the 
motionless form of a soot-hued bird, which, 
with wide-stretched wings facing the breeze, 
seemed to neither advance nor recede. 

"Hen hawk?" queried one. 

"Buzzard," was the brief and comprehen- 
sive answer of the veteran who had been in 
Virginia before. 

"What makes him keep so silent and mo- 
tionless?" 

" He's counting us," was the laconic reply, 
not without a grim and smileless humor under 
it all. 

The turkey buzzard is a southern bird, but 
it is a little singular that the first one which we 
saw was when we were in the act of crossing 
the Potomac, and I never saw one north of 
that river, though in Virginia we found 
myriads of them. 

We did not pause in the village, but im- 



78 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

mediately crossed the Shenandoah on the old 
wooden bridge, and began the tiresome climb 
of the mountains. When well up the moun- 
tainside we came to a point where, peering 
through the trees, we could see backward to 
the village and the Potomac, and the blue- 
tinted column with the glint of steel swaying 
above the blue, interspersed with horses, ar- 
tillery, and canvas-topped wagons, was still 
winding, serpent like, along the river bank 
and across the bridges. 

At last we emerged from the mountains 
and, keeping southward, skirted along their 
eastern base until we came to Snicker's Gap. 
This is not a "gap" in the ordinary sense of 
the word, but is a low place in the mountain 
over which a fairly good mountain road 
passes to the famous Shenandoah Valley on 
the other side. 

It was fortunate for the health of the regi- 
ment, which was not yet fully seasoned to 
campaigning, that we camped here several 
days, for Dame Nature had kindly provided 
a healing balm for the ravages caused by 
army rations, or, as it had sometimes hap- 
pened, a lack of rations. On the old fields 
and hillsides of these abandoned plantations 
had sprung up a marvellous growth of black- 



VIRGINIA 79 

berries, and they were just then in their full- 
est prime of ripeness. In addition to the other 
miseries of the past few weeks I had suffered 
the keenest discomfort from lack of suitable 
food. At times my stomach had completely 
revolted at the coarse diet, and I had gone 
a day at a time without food. As may 
readily be imagined, these blackberries, with 
their well-known healing and nourishing quali- 
ties, were for us a veritable feast of the gods. 
With the restlessness of youth I one day 
extended my berrying tour into an exploring 
expedition, following up the mountain road 
to the summit. Leaving the road then, and 
climbing to a convenient peak, I was re- 
warded by a view — the only one I ever had — 
of the Shenandoah Valley. Stretching away 
in the distance as far as the eye could clearly 
distinguish the objects was a pastoral land- 
scape of surpassing beauty; wide stretching 
fields with innumerable stacks of grain ; un- 
dulating farms with a fertility that has made 
them world famous, interspersed with com- 
fortable homesteads with granaries and com 
cribs, and surrounded by their groups of 
little cabins ; and through it all, like a silver 
thread in a setting of gold, twined and wound 
and glistened in the sun the beautiful river. 



80 AS SEEN- FROM THE RANKS 

A year later the exigencies of war caused 
such a devastation of this valley as to 
justify the epigram attributed to Sheridan: 
"If a crow were now to fly through it 
he would have to carry his rations with 
him." 

I returned safely to camp before night, and 
upon relating my experience I was comforted 
by the assurance that I had been fortunate, 
for I might have been picked up by Confed- 
erate scouts, who were supposed to be watch- 
ing our army from every favorable peak of 
that range. 

It was a whole month after the battle of 
Gettysburg before we reached the Rappa- 
hannock at Kelley's Ford, and here we estab- 
lished a more permanent camp. We were no 
longer the clean and handsome regiment of a 
few weeks before, whose dress parades were 
the delight of the Baltimore belles. This 
first campaign in the midsummer of an un- 
usually hot season had been very trying, and 
we were foot-sore and tired, thin in flesh and 
ragged in clothes. The novelty of soldiering 
was gone and our line was sadly shortened 
by death and sickness, and now we were 
beset by the malarial fever of those lowlands, 
which proved more deadly, in the worn down 



VIRGINIA 8 1 

condition of the regiment, than the enemy's 
bullets had been. 

The river here is a deep-flowing stream of 
considerable breadth, with a strength of cur- 
rent that made it impracticable for rapid and 
easy fording, hence it formed a natural front 
for the army. We were now some distance 
from the mountains, whose blue outlines 
formed the western horizon and suggested at 
once where they got the name, " Blue Ridge," 
and the country about us was level or rolling 
in its general character, but without any con- 
siderable elevations. With the habit of my 
life my first estimate was from the agricul- 
tural standpoint, and from this view Vir- 
ginia (then and later when I tramped it from 
end to end) was a disappointment. With 
the verdant fields of Dutchess in my mind, 
these old lands, most of them with little or 
no grass, looked desolate indeed. 

Under the system of farming in vogue in 
the slave States, they had been depleted of 
the wealth of fertility which was there 
when the country was new, and nothing had 
been done to restore it. When fields had been 
thus reduced beyond the profit limit they 
were left to themselves, when nature imme- 
diately took charge and began a system of 

6 



82 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

restoration by planting a thick growth of 
pines which soon covered the plundered soil 
with forest again. 

Once in several miles would be found a 
planter's residence. Most of them were 
plain wooden structures, no better in any 
respect than farmhouses in the north, and 
generally not as good. But that whole 
country had been ridden over, tramped over, 
and fought over by the contending armies 
for two years ; and fences, being the favorite 
material for camp-fires, had disappeared, 
while many — so many — homesteads were 
marked only by stark chimneys standing 
lonesome guard over the family cemetery. 

Most of the plantation houses which re- 
mained were occupied, but no white men 
were to be seen, only women and a few 
negroes. The men were doubtless in the 
Confederate service, but the lot of their fam- 
ilies was a hard one at the best, and bitterly 
though they hated us, and probably played 
the spy on every opportunity, yet in the in- 
terests of humanity our commanders did 
what they could to prevent them from being 
disturbed in their homes. 

The midsummer weather was excessively 
sultry during the day, but with the coming of 



VIRGINIA 83 

night the water sprites rose from the river in 
the form of a mist which spread over the 
land, seeming to chill us to the very bones. 
The great increase of sickness caused a 
change to be made ; we were moved from our 
open field camp on the river to a pine-covered 
hill a mile back, and here we suffered less 
from the fever-breeding night chill of the 
river bottom-lands. 

The men had now begun to learn that to 
become veterans required something more 
than to endure hardships. It required a 
patient learning of sanitary camp and cam- 
paign methods, especially those of systematic 
and thorough cleanliness. This may sound 
strange to the reader who has noted that in 
our daily marches we had been alternately 
immersed in mud and dust, but it is never- 
theless true that it is almost impossible to 
maintain any degree of health in campaign- 
ing unless every opportunity is improved to 
make the body and all its surroundings clean. 
We soon learned, too, that it is not well in 
that malarial country to sleep on the ground 
when it can be avoided. In this camp we 
set crotches, and with saplings for bed-slats 
and pine boughs for mattresses we had beds 
a foot or so from the ground. Defective 



84 ^S SEE AT FROM THE RANKS 

culinary education was probably also re- 
sponsible for much sickness. 

Yet, despite all the precautions the Medical 
Director could suggest, or the Colonel could 
have carried out, the sick list was very large. 

In connection with our stay at this camp 
there was a curious incident which deserves 
to be recorded. Among the sick was Albert 
Reed of my own company. His father, the 
late Newton Reed, learning that he was sink- 
ing, hastened to Washington, and procuring 
a pass to enter the lines took the railroad to 
Bealton, then its limit. Here he secured 
permission to ride on an army baggage wagon 
some ten miles farther. Finding himself still 
some miles from our camp, he inquired the 
direction and struck across the fields on foot. 
As he passed to the rear of an old plantation 
house he came to the family cemetery, and 
his eye was caught by a familiar name ; paus- 
ing, he read : 

"Anna Maria Taylor. 
Born in Amenia, N. Y." 

In my early childhood Miss Taylor was a 
near neighbor. She was a young woman of 
excellent qualities of mind and character, and 



VIRGINIA 85 

she cherished a noble ambition, quite in ad- 
vance of her time, to do something for her- 
self and make her way in the world. With 
this in view she completed her education at 
the Amenia (N. Y.) Seminary, then one of 
the best educational institutions open to 
women. Soon afterward she was offered and 
accepted an engagement as teacher in the 
family of a Virginia planter. In her new 
surroundings she made many friends, but she 
sickened and died before the war, probably 
never dreaming that dozens of her school- 
mates and friends would camp within sight 
of her grave, and I deem it a most singular 
coincidence that her neighbor and personal 
friend should have found it in such an un- 
expected manner. 

Since then a still more striking coincidence 
has come to my knowledge. Just before the 
war a young German, John Lauth by name, 
came to this country and made it his home 
for a time with his married sister, who was a 
near neighbor of Miss Taylor's mother. Upon 
the breaking out of the war he took the field 
in defence of his new-found country, enlist- 
ing in a New York regiment. In August, 
1862, his sister received a letter from him in 
which the following incident was related. 



86 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

His regiment, then in Virginia, had been 
engaged in a sharp skirmish with the enemy. 
His company's position was such that he was 
in a small cemetery plot near a plantation 
house, and directly in front of him was one of 
the marble slabs. During the engagement 
the man on his right was killed, and the one 
on his left was mortally wounded. The lat- 
ter gave his expensive gold watch to Lauth, 
and told him to keep it in remembrance of 
their friendship. But the young German, 
unaccustomed to American usages and not 
knowing whether he would be permitted to 
keep it, nor, in fact, whether he might not be 
made a prisoner before the conflict w^as ended, 
with his bayonet dug a hole next the stone 
and wrapping the watch in an old handker- 
chief buried it there. After the fight was 
over he went to the front of the stone in order 
to be able to identify the place. First he 
noticed that a bullet, probably intended for 
himself, had flattened against it. Then he 
copied the inscription as follows : 

" Taylor, 

Born in Amenia, N. Y." 

Even the gravestone of the Northern girl 



VIRGINIA 



87 



had seemed to stand in silent protest, stop- 
ping the bullet aimed at the Northern soldier. 
Lauth's sister related these facts to Mrs. 
Taylor (the letter was written in German), 
and thus twice during the war did the wid- 
owed mother receive a message from her 
daughter's grave in the Southland. 

It only remains to be added that ]\Ir. 
Lauth returned to Mrginia after the war and 
secured the watch, which he still has. 




CHAPTER IX 

FROM VIRGINIA TO ALABAMA 

Forward to the Rapidan — A Military Execution, and 
how it was Conducted — Moved to the Western 
Army — Incidents on the Way — Guarding Rail- 
road in Tennessee — Topography of the State. 

IT was a tedious August and September that 
we passed in Virginia. The Rappahan- 
nock was our front, and daily there sat on his 
horse the enemy's picket, in plain view of 
our camp. It seemed that nothing was 
being done. But all unknown to us a new 
element had taken control of the war. The 
Vicksburg campaign had shown Grant to be 
possessed of military talents of the highest 
order. The Mississippi "flowed unvexed to 
the sea" once more, and his forces were even 
then marching to the relief of the beleaguered 
Chattanooga and Knoxville. The crisis of 
disaster was past and the march to victory 

88 



FROM VIRGINIA TO ALABAMA 89 

begun, though there was still a year and a 
half of the bloodiest months of the war to 
follow. 

One day, in the cooler air of autumn, there 
was a stir and bustle in camp, rumors of 
something to be done, and soon it became 
known that we had marching orders. Great 
scows were floated out and anchored in a line 
across the river, and timbers laid in succes- 
sion from one to the other were covered with 
plank, forming in an hour an army pontoon 
bridge. It was strong enough to sustain 
the heaviest artillery, but danced and swayed 
in the current in a way quite bewildering to 
horses unaccustomed to such things. Soon 
there was pouring across for hours in succes- 
sion a solid column of men, horses, wagons, 
and cannon. But we moved only a few 
miles south and again went into camp, this 
time on the north bank of the Rapidan, at 
Raccoon Ford. 

It was while at this place that we witnessed 
a military execution, one of the very few that 
I saw. For military offences the penalty 
provided, in a majority of cases, is "death, 
or such other punishment as a court-martial 
may determine." In this case the court- 
martial had imposed the extreme penalty for 



90 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

desertion. It was an aggravated case for it 
was the third offence and was '*in the face 
of the enemy." It was deemed necessary, 
therefore, to make it an example. 

One forenoon we received the order, '' Fall 
in without knapsacks," and were marched to 
a broad, open field. Here the division was 
formed on three sides of a hollow square. On 
the fourth side there was a new grave and 
beside it stood a coffin — a rough pine box. 
The guard came marching in with the culprit 
accompanied by the chaplain. He was 
placed facing the grave, with the coffin be- 
tween. We were not near enough to hear 
what was said, but we presently saw the firing 
detail arranged on the other side of the 
chasm. Then the prisoner was blindfolded 
and the guard withdrew, and after a little 
time the chaplain walked slowly to one side. 

There was. a pause of suspense, and in an- 
other moment the poor fellow was suddenly 
hidden from view by a cloud of smoke from 
the guns, while the crash of the volley, rolling 
back in solemn echoes from the forest, was his 
only requiem, and the tragedy was ended. 
But from a military point of view this was 
not sufficient; the execution was for moral 
effect, and the troops must have their object- 



FROM VIRGINIA TO AIABAMA 9 1 

lesson completed. So the corpse was ar- 
ranged in the coffin, with the clothing opened 
on the breast to show the ghastly bullet 
holes, and the whole division was marched 
past, parting ranks and passing on each side 
of the remains. Then the bands, which had 
played dead marches in the assembling, 
struck up quick-step tunes and we marched 
away to the camp by lively music. 

In after conversation with the men I 
learned some of the details of these execu- 
tions. The American citizen soldier was of 
so different a character from the European 
model, that to get him to play the role of 
executioner of his comrades was not always 
easy, and the exercise of some ingenuity was 
necessary in order to accomplish it. As a 
rule he was not afraid of his officers, and was 
not abashed or humble in their presence. 
While he submitted to military discipline as 
a necessary part of the service, both the priv- 
ates and officers knew that their relative 
positions were but temporary at the best. 
To be coldly selected for the task would be 
considered a degradation, and would awaken 
a feeling of animosity that no officer liked to 
kindle against himself, for privates some- 
times have ways of getting even. 



92 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

So the detail, in order to give an appear- 
ance of perfect impartiality, were selected by 
lot. Even then they were not permitted to 
load the guns themselves, but they were 
loaded beforehand and brought to them. 
Half of them were loaded with ball and the 
remainder with blank cartridges, so that even 
in the firing each might think that perhaps 
his own shot was a blank; that perhaps he 
did not really take the life after all. 

After remaining in this camp for a week, 
we again strapped our knapsacks and this 
time marched northward for several days 
until we came to the railroad. Here we 
loaded into freight cars at the rate of fifty to 
the car, and sped on northward over Long 
Bridge and through the city of Washington, 
— then scarce a prophecy of its present self, 
— and away westward by the Baltimore & 
Ohio Railroad. Our course took us past 
Harper's Ferry again, — haunted by its al- 
ready historic tragedies, — where the river 
which we saw a few hours before floating a 
navy on its calm bosom here assumes the 
role of a roaring giant as it dashes through 
the narrow gorge, where it so abruptly deserts 
the Cumberland Valley. 

We followed up the river, which, as we 



FROM VIRGINIA TO ALABAMA 93 

Sped on, changed its character with the con- 
summate skill of a harlequin. From the 
foaming main it changed to the peaceful 
expanse flowing between brown meadow 
banks; then shrunk to a creek, the creek to 
a mountain torrent, and the torrent to a 
brook which was finally lost to view, and 
presently we found ourselves gliding down 
the western slope of the Alleghanies and 
speeding away through the endless corn- 
fields of Ohio and Indiana to Indianapolis. 
Thence our course was southward through 
Kentucky and Tennessee, until we finally 
disembarked in the northern edge of Ala- 
bama. 

It must not be supposed that our train was 
an express, either in its equipment or its 
method of travel, and the journey was by no 
means as brief as my description of it might 
lead one to suppose, for it had consumed 
more than a week. To move an army a 
thousand miles by rail, mostly over single- 
tracked roads that are doing other business 
at the same time, was a ponderous task that 
must have taxed the executive ability of both 
government officers and railroad men, for 
ours was but one in a long succession of trains. 
Sometimes we would be side-tracked for 



94 ^S SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

hours at a time, and I do not think a day 
passed in which our train was not halted 
an hour or two somewhere near woods and 
fields. This gave us an opportunity to do a 
little cooking, and if a convenient creek was 
at hand hundreds of naked forms would soon 
be seen glistening in the sunlight, for the men 
were eager now to improve every opportun- 
ity to bathe. 

But the scenery was not all of the charac- 
ter of fields and woods, for we sometimes 
came to great rivers, and ever and anon the 
train trundled through city streets where our 
eyes, so long limited to scenes of camp and 
field, would be refreshed by the glad sight of 
ladies and children in holiday attire, attracted 
by the novel sight of freight trains loaded, 
both in the cars and on top as well, with sol- 
diers. 

We reached the Ohio River at Ben wood, 
four miles below Wheeling, and here we dis- 
embarked and crossed the river on a pon- 
toon bridge to a train we found in waiting 
on the other side. At Zanesville, Ohio, there 
was an incident which, though trivial in it- 
self, managed to linger in the memory, per- 
haps because of its suggested but unrevealed 
background of possible tragedy. 



FROM VIRGINIA TO ALABAMA 95 

The train had halted, and at the risk of 
being left behind I walked and ran a mile to 
the market to secure something appetizing. 
Attracted by some fresh-looking water- 
melons I selected two, but when about to pay 
for them I was anticipated by a lady who 
stood near, though she had not spoken to me 
before. I thanked her, but assured her that 
I had plenty of money for present needs, but 
she would not be refused, and as she still in- 
sisted I could not do otherwise than acqui- 
esce. She was pleasant and ladylike in her 
appearance, dressed in the deepest black, and 
in age I judged was on that vague neutral 
ground called "middle life." But what im- 
pressed me most was that over her pale, re- 
fined face there flitted never the ghost of a 
smile, even when I bade her good-by. 

The act of good-will towards a Union 
soldier, the dress of deep mourning, and the 
sorrow-imprinted face; what was the story 
behind it all? I never knew. 

When we reached Zenia we found a condi- 
tion of organized enthusiasm in the town, 
which was made evident by a band of ladies 
that passed along the train as soon as it 
halted, armed with packages which they dis- 
tributed among us. Each package contained 



96 AS SEE AT FROM THE RANKS 

a sandwich and some added delicacies, and 
lest the food should not prove to be a suffi- 
cient indication of their good-will, as soon as 
the distribution was completed they collected 
in a body on the platform at the station and 
sang patriotic airs as the train moved out. 

The novelty of the ride, and the ever- 
changing scenery and experiences as we sped 
along, was refreshing after our dreary round 
of duties in the Virginia camps, and the ba- 
rometer of regimental spirits rose perceptibly. 
This mountain region of Northern Alabama, 
where we had finally disembarked, with its 
springs and cascades, its mountain valleys 
and towering crags, and the deep-flowing, 
silent, and majestic Tennessee River, was in 
striking contrast to the desolate sun-baked 
plains we had just left. We had been more 
than a week on the road, and now began a 
series of marchings to and fro and up and 
down the railroad, seemingly following order- 
less orders and undirected directions. 

But I have no doubt that all this rest- 
less moving about from point to point was 
deemed necessary, for — though we in the 
ranks did not know it — we were not far from 
a vigilant enemy, and it was necessary to 
keep an active lookout at a time when there 



FROM VIRGINIA TO AIABAMA 97 

was necessarily much confusion attendant 
upon unloading such quantities of troops and 
stores. In time, order was evolved out of 
chaos, and the two army corps transported 
from the Army of the Potomac were once 
more on their feet and able to take the offen- 
sive or defensive at a moment's notice. 

Our division (the First) was now detached 
from its corps (the Twelfth), marched north- 
ward into Middle Tennessee, and posted along 
the railroad leading from Nashville to Chat- 
tanooga, to guard it from "guerillas," wan- 
dering bands of lawless men who were not 
enlisted in any army. Their object was 
usually robbery, and they employed the 
methods of assassins and incendiaries. The 
remainder of the corps pushed on to 
the vicinity of Chattanooga, and there par- 
ticipated in the victories of Missionary 
Ridge and Lookout Mountain. 

Those who are interested in these vagrant 
recollections will be well repaid by a brief 
glance at the map to refresh their memories in 
reference to the locality of which I write. Ten- 
nessee is bounded on the east by a portion of 
the Alleghany Mountains, while the Cumber- 
land Mountains divide the State from north- 
east to southwest. Between these parallel 



98 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

ridges of the Appalachian range Hes the valley 
known as "East Tennessee," with Chatta- 
nooga at its southern extremity. The Ten- 
nessee River, flowing southward across the 
State in East Tennessee, washes the base of 
Lookout Mountain, which stands in Georgia. 
At this point it turns westward and begins its 
tortuous course by which it makes its way 
through the Cumberland Mountains, passing 
through Alabama, carving a corner from 
Mississippi, and again crossing Tennessee to 
the north. 

This breaking through the mountains by 
the great river made a natural highway for 
armies, for. near the southern part of East 
Tennessee are also the headwaters of the 
Oostenaula River, flowing southward, and 
hence Chattanooga became known as a point 
of strategic importance, the "gateway to the 
Confederacy." In November, 1863, there 
were great struggles for the possession of this 
point, which became known as the battles of 
Lookout Mountain and Missionary Ridge, and 
the gateway became ours from that time on. 



CHAPTER X 

A WINTER IN TENNESSEE 

The Country was Then New — Characteristics of the 
Natives — Did n't Know the Flag — Leaves from 
an Old Magazine — The Regiment Makes its Own 
Bread — Interviewing Confederate Prisoners. 

MIDDLE Tennessee has a fine rolling sur- 
face resting on limestone formation. 
I shall always remember its pleasant little 
valleys, divided by rocky ridges full of minia- 
ture caves, affording the greatest variety and 
beauty of landscape. It was then essen- 
tially a new country, and there were miles 
and miles of stately forest unshorn by the 
axe, where wild turkey and deer were still 
abundant, and that truly antipodean quad- 
ruped, the opossum, was plentiful and 
toothsome. Our headquarters for the win- 
ter was in the little hamlet of Normandy, of 

99 

LsfC. 



lOO y^S SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

which one of the boys wrote in his home letter 
as follows : 

"Normandy is a little village which formerly 
supported a store, blacksmith's shop, and fifty or 
sixty hounds, besides cur dogs too numerous to 
mention." 

This pithy sentence seems to give an illum- 
inating view of the outward aspect of the 
place, and if I quote a little further from the 
same letter it will serve to show one at least 
of the characteristics of the rising generation 
in that Tennessee village. The letter con- 
tinues as follows: 

"The use of tobacco by the native population 
here is astonishing, even to a soldier, especially 
when we see the other sex chew 'navy plug' 
while they mix bread; or indulge in smoking, 
varied by rubbing snuff on the gums. A boy 
from back in the country stayed with us one 
night, who called himself thirteen years old. As 
we sat around the fire in the evening he asked 
for a * chaw.' After one had been given him and 
he had placed it in the aching void we asked 
him how long he had used the article. 

"'Wall,' said he, 'I reckon as how I've used 
it about ten year.' Let no one hereafter call 
nicotine a poison." 



A WINTER IN TENNESSEE lOI 

These neighbors of ours were the typical 
farmers of Middle Tennessee; quite a differ- 
ent class by the way from the blue-grass 
landlord of Kentucky with his thousands of 
acres, or the cotton planter of Alabama who 
numbered his slaves by hundreds. Some or 
most of them had probably been in the Con- 
federate service, but they took good care not 
to mention it to us, and our relations re- 
mained pleasant and neighborly throughout 
the winter. 

But with them the national thought had 
been so little cultivated that they were not 
even familiar with the nation's flag. One of 
them asked one day if the ''blue spot in the 
corner" was "suthen new." "Reckon I 
do'n' remember to have seen it befo'." Any- 
where else such infantile ignorance would 
have excited suspicion at once as being an 
attempt at guying. But to suspect one of 
those stolid and ignorant Tennessee farmers 
of such talent for humor would be inadmis- 
sible. No, the truth was that they had prob- 
ably never seen a United States flag before 
the arrival of our troops, for before the war 
our flag was seldom seen in the South outside 
the cities. 

A curious sidelight is thrown on this atti- 



I02 AS SEEN- FROM THE RANKS 

tude of the South towards the nation years 
before the war, by an article which strangely 
travelled around until it finally reached the 
person about whom it was written. During 
the winter of our stay there an expedition 
was fitted out from the regiment to go into 
another county and there collect a tax levied 
upon it for murders committed by guerillas. 
Among those detailed for it was our i st Lieu- 
tenant, Henry Gridley, and during the tour 
he found and sent home some leaves from 
he Bow's Magazine, published in New Orleans 
and containing a letter from a correspond- 
ent at Galveston Bay, Texas. The date of 
the article is March, 1851, and it contains 
this suggestive sentence: 

*'And should the North, at length, in 
the madness of fanaticism, rend asunder the 
Union, the South would be prepared for the 
consequences." Thus the " rend-asunder- 
the-Union" thought was abroad in the South 
even then, ten years before the war. 

The article itself was a description of Mr. 
Gail Borden's meat biscuits, then undertaken 
in Texas. It was one of his first experiments 
in making condensed food, and was tried 
some years before he w^ent to Wassaic, N. Y., 
where he accomplished his first real success 



A WINTER IN TENNESSEE I03 

by making condensed milk. He was a near 
neighbor of Lieutenant Gridley's home, and 
when this article was placed in his hand it 
must have seemed like an echo from a past 
existence. 

Lieutenant Gridley was killed in battle 
on the following summer, and the bullet 
which pierced his heart sped northward and 
sore wounded a large circle of friends and 
relatives. He graduated at Amherst in the 
class of '62, and was loved and trusted by all 
who knew him ; was spotless in character and 
a goodly man to look upon, for he stood above 
six feet tall and was straight and muscular as 
an Indian. He was my schoolmate at the 
Amenia (N. Y.) Seminary, and there comes 
to my mind a couplet of his class song, which 
in a half-earnest, half-whimsical vein, gave 
expression to his fellow-students' admiration : 

"Colossal in statue Henry Gridley is seen. 
But no less gigantic in mind than in mien." 

A sense of awe comes over one when we 
reflect that his was one in nearly a million 
lives that were sacrificed by the war. A mil- 
lion men standing in a single line, shoulder to 
shoulder, would make a line some four or five 



104 ^^ SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

hundred miles in length. They were men in 
the prime of life, and in both the North and 
South they represented something more than 
"the average man." Who can estimate the 
loss to the nation? Nor does the thought 
stop here, for besides the relatives bereft, the 
sacrifice involved the necessity that nearly a 
million women must live their lives thence- 
forth unmated, whether as widows or maids. 

We had most of the time drawn for rations 
those peculiarly hard and tough army crack- 
ers known in the vernacular as "hard-tack." 
There was a joke current in the ranks in re- 
gard to this hard-tack. At one time large 
amounts of it were made for the government 
by a certain contractor by the name of Ben- 
jamin Cozzens, and the initials of his name 
appeared on each cracker. The men always 
insisted that these letters referred to the date 
of its manufacture, for it must be confessed 
that they were not always as fresh as we 
could have wished. 

However that might have been, the Colonel 
concluded arrangements by which we were 
enabled to draw, in this winter camp, flour 
instead of hard-tack. There was no lack of 
trades among us, and the masons detailed for 
the work tore down the chimney in an unused 



A WINTER IN TENNESSEE 105 

house in order to obtain brick, and built some 
of the large, old - fashioned, dome - shaped 
brick ovens, such as our grandmothers used. 
The carpenter, using boards taken from the 
same house that furnished the brick, made 
large bread trays and moulding boards. 
When all was ready two men were detailed 
from the ranks to do the baking. 

" What ! " exclaims some twentieth-century 
housekeeper, who deems her lot a hard one 
because she has to make with her own hands, 
and bake in a modern range, bread for a fam- 
ily of three; "you don't mean to say that 
two had to do all the baking for those hun- 
dreds of hungry men?" 

Certainly; they brought their water from 
the river, moulded the dough by hand, 
weighing it out into loaves of exact size, and 
baked it in the old-fashioned brick ovens out 
of doors. They did this easily and had leis- 
ure time to spare. Every morning each man 
in the regiment received a loaf of exact 
weight, and it was always of the best quality. 
There is never any "luck" in bread-making 
when it is done by men. 

The railroad which we were guarding was 
a single-tracked road of old-fashioned con- 
struction, but it was an exceedingly impor- 



I06 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

tant road just then, for it was the only means 
of supplying our army at Chattanooga, five 
hundred miles from its base of supplies at 
Nashville. Hence the duty of guarding it 
was not without responsibilities. For its de- 
fence several stockades were built at impor- 
tant points, and while they would have been 
no protection whatever against artillery, they 
would have furnished a good temporary de- 
fence against roving bands of cavalry. But 
we never had to use them. 

In the battles about Chattanooga a large 
number of prisoners had been taken, and they 
were sent north by this line. Sometimes a 
train-load of prisoners would stand on the 
side-track for an hour or so, and it gave us a 
good opportunity to converse with "our 
friends, the enemy." Such conversation was 
usually in a friendly vein, on our side at least, 
though chaffing and repartee were indulged 
in by both parties. It afforded a good oppor- 
tunity, too, for the study of " English as she 
is spoke," and some could make shrewd 
guesses at the nativity of certain Southerners 
by their peculiarities of speech. In convers- 
ing with one I detected the use of a phrase 
and accent which reminded me of Baltimore, 
and I asked him if he were not from Mary- 



A WINTER IN TENNESSEE lO/ 

land. He replied that he was, and imme- 
diately added that he thought I was from 
New York. This suggested that possibly 
there was a provincialism of the North, as 
well as a provincialism of the South; some- 
thing I had not thought of before. 

The comparative leisure this camp afforded 
was not without some amusements, which 
were eagerly made use of. Though the de- 
bating club languished, the card and domino 
parties never did. The men in the ranks 
could not be away in the night without per- 
mission, but we in the band enjoyed a little 
more freedom, and there was one thing we 
especially enjoyed, and that was 'possum and 
'coon hunts in the night. 

We never asked permission [from head- 
quarters to go, for we knew it would not be 
granted, and if the august authorities ever 
suspected our escapades they probably 
thought it not worth while to notice them. ' 

We would collect a dozen or so of the 
hounds in the neighborhood, and after dark 
steal out into the woods. As we knew ex- 
actly where the pickets were it was easy for 
us to pass between them in the darkness, and 
after getting well beyond the lines we would 
turn the dogs loose and then sit down and 



I08 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

wait for the yelping bark which indicated 
that they were in pursuit. Then it was with 
difficulty that the impatient ones could be 
restrained until we heard the other cry; the 
deep-mouthed, measured, and more delib- 
erate baying, indicating that the quarry was 
"treed." 

If it was " a 'possum up a gum tree," it was 
easy to climb and, bringing him down, carry 
the nondescript quadruped home alive, for he 
seemed to be perfectly content when carried 
by the tail. But the raccoon took to larger 
trees, and these we sometimes had to chop 
down. 

We soon learned the art of cooking our 
game by the "kettle-roast" process, using 
some large baking-kettles which we found in 
the neighborhood. No more delicious morsel 
was ever placed on a table than the fine 
roasted opossum of Tennessee; it has some- 
what the quality of the erstwhile popular 
roast pig of New England, with an added 
richness and the piquancy of a certain gamey 
flavor. 

One night, after our return from one of our 
hunting excursions, we found a lively interest 
in camp in regard to a line of fires which were 
visible in the distance. Some thought it 



A WINTER IN TENNESSEE lOQ 

must be a camp of guerillas, while others 
thought it might be a scouting band of our 
own cavalry, which had gone into camp there. 
They were fires which we had kindled, but 
the night guard seemed so interested in the 
spectacle that we crept quietly to bed, for we 
had n't the heart to break in upon their en- 
joyment by admitting that we had had any- 
thing to do with it. 

Our winter here was a pleasant interval of 
war experience, and during the time we were 
reinforced by the recovery and return of 
some who had been taken to hospitals on 
account of sickness and wounds. 





CHAPTER XI 

OVER THE CUMBERLAND MOUNTAINS 

The Imp in the Attic — Leaving the Winter Camp — 
Hardening to the Work — Last Camp in Middle 
Tennessee — Chmbing the Mountain Range — Ri- 
valry of Regiments — Nick-a-jack Cave and its 
Blood-Curdling Traditions. 

FLORENCE PERCY, in an exquisite little 
poem, represents Memory as a droll 
fellow dwelling in the upper story and having 
charge of all the facts and figures that are 
placed in his keeping. She calls this keeper 
of the psychological storehouse of past events 
" The Imp in the Attic ^ Some of the valu- 
ables placed in his charge are lost, and some 
are only found after long searching ; and it is 
to be noted also that the controlling Imp of 
each attic has idiosyncrasies quite his own. 

Now that these events of the war have re- 
ceded into the far ^past and can only be 



OVER THE CUMBERLAND MOUNTAINS III 

viewed from the beginning of another cen- 
tury, it will not surprise the reader that my 
Imp has tired of presenting the record in 
panoramic continuity, but sometimes prefers 
instead to give a series of views, each clear 
and distinct in itself, but not always sufficient 
for a continuous narrative. Thus many 
scenes and events are indelibly stamped upon 
my memory, undimmed by the passing of 
time, while others of equal or perhaps greater 
importance I am unable to recall in their 
proper order. Did not these memories touch 
here and there with persons and events of a 
later date I should sometimes doubt their 
reality and be disposed to think they be- 
longed in some pre-existent state. 

When the soft, warm days of spring came, 
it was made known that we had marching 
orders. We were to join our corps at the 
front, while newer troops were to take our 
place in guarding the railroad. There was 
great stir in camp, and even the mules, who 
had grown fat and dull, caught the excite- 
ment. Their loud braying when once inter- 
preted by the camp wits, sounded like this, 
**Jo-o-o Hook-ev, Hook-er, Hook-erV 

Just as the leaves were putting forth and 
the banks and roadsides were fragrant with 



112 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

masses of wild flowers, we marched out of our 
winter camp and turned our faces southward. 
From the northeast to the south the blue 
Cumberland Mountains rose against the sky, 
their sides gashed by deep gorges and broken 
by jutting spurs, but their top bounding the 
horizon by a clear, straight line, as if it had 
been planed off by some mighty glacier. 
Steadily for several days we marched south- 
ward until we reached Decherd, a small coun- 
try village and station on the railroad, and 
this was our last camp in the valley of Middle 
Tennessee. 

This section, as I have said, was still a new 
country, and it had many of the frontier 
characteristics of that day. Many of the 
houses, even of those who owned plantations, 
were small log houses, and those which were 
of sawed lumber were of the plainest descrip- 
tion. I do not remember that I saw a plas- 
tered house in that part of the State. The 
chimneys were invariably on the outside of 
the house, and, what seemed to us a peculiar 
feature, many of them were built of wood. 
Rived staves of oak were laid up "cob-house 
fashion," and the interior being plastered 
with clay they answered the purpose of a 
chimney for that climate, though it was said 



OVER THE CUMBERLAND MOUNTAINS II3 

that they were wont to catch fire on windy 
nights. 

Of the white inhabitants we saw only a few 
women and children. There were probably 
men concealed not far off, but they did not 
show themselves, for doubtless some of them 
disliked to be too closely questioned in regard 
to certain mishaps on the railroad in that 
vicinity but a short time before. Some rails 
had been misplaced and a portion of a train 
wrecked. 

With our last year's experience in battle 
and camp we felt that we could now fairly 
claim to be called veterans. We had learned, 
to the last fine details, the art of housekeep- 
ing without a house : we could avail ourselves 
quickly and easily of every method and con- 
venience that could be brought into use, and 
we had learned — the greatest lesson of all for 
men leaving a long camp — just what to leave 
behind. Little household idols will accumu- 
late in even a temporary stopping-place that 
it seems hard to abandon, but they must be 
left behind. 

For the men in the ranks the arms and am- 
munition must go where the men go. Next 
in importance, the thing to stick by and die 
by if necessary is the canteen, for water is 



114 ^^ SEEN- FROM THE RANKS 

sometimes more important than food. Espe- 
cially is this true in case of loss of blood from 
wounds, for the great necessity then is water 
to drink. After these articles comes the 
light woollen blanket, the half -tent, the hav- 
ersack containing three days' rations, and 
possibly a rubber blanket to lie on at night, 
though the government did not furnish this. 

The articles which I have enumerated are 
about load enough for the best and strongest 
of men to carry on such campaigns as our 
Civil War afforded, and he was the wisest who 
took but few additional things, such as soap, 
towel, etc., with the inevitable little hatchet, 
a few cooking utensils, and one or two extra 
pairs of stockings, for the feet which carried 
the loads so many miles must have the best 
of care. 

' ' But one must have a change of clothing 
in the course of the summer!" you exclaim. 

Do not attempt it. Wash your clothes at 
night when you can, drying them by the 
camp-fire. If you happen to do it by day 
and suddenly have orders to march, put them 
on wet; it will not hurt you. Draw new 
clothes as often as you can; they will be 
charged to your account and you will not 
mind the expense; but never, as you value 



/ 

OVER THE CUMBERLAND MOUNTAINS II5 

your expectations of seeing ^/home again, at- 
tempt to carry extra clothing on a summer 
campaign. 

We were fresh and strong now, stepping 
the miles off easily as jibe and jest, laughter 
and song passed along the line. It was just 
as the sun was sinking in the west that we 
reached Decherd and saw the column ahead 
filing into the fields to make camp. Then 
there came galloping towards us a mounted 
orderly who, saluting the Colonel, said, " Gen- 
eral Ruger directs that you go into camp on 
the right of the 3d Wisconsin, and he directs 
me to show you the position." Then we file 
into the fields, as the others before us have 
been doing, while the wagons are being 
parked at one side of the field. Details for 
picket duty are told off rapidly, and as they 
march away to their duties beyond the out- 
skirts of the camp we hear in quick succession 
the Colonel's orders: "Front face." "Stack 
arms." " Break ranks; — march.'' 

Then follows a scamper over the fields to 
gather rails for camp-fires, and little saplings 
to furnish poles and pins for the tents, and 
soon the plantation is dotted with white 
tents, and numerous camp-fires are sending 
up their columns of smoke. Each fire is the 



Il6 AS SEE AT FROM THE RANKS 

centre of a little group, wrangling, shouting, 
and laughing as they prepare supper. When 
supper is ended pipes are lit for the brief re- 
spite between eating and sleeping, and the 
bands ring out lively and inspiriting music. 

Then as the fires grow dim and twilight 
fades, the forms vanish one by one; but the 
great Cumberland Mountain in our front, 
which had looked so bonny and bright in the 
distance, grows sombre and threatening as it 
rises sullenly against the southern sky. To- 
morrow we must scale the mountain, but 
to-night — never mind; we are fast asleep 
without a care, and the camp is sunk in a 
silence that is absolute, for insomnia is the 
one disease that never invades the field. 

At the earliest dawn the silent air was 
pierced with the strident notes of a bugle 
near at hand, and in an instant night seemed 
to have been routed and was in full retreat 
among the mists up the mountain. Then 
followed a busy hour, men running to the 
brook for water and to the now rapidly van- 
ishing remnants of the rail fence for more 
fuel with which to replenish the fires. How 
fresh and clean the morning air seemed, and 
how the mountains echoed and re-echoed the 
lively strains of band music and mimicked 



OVER THE CUMBERLAND MOUNTAINS WJ 

the screamirxg bugle. Fried pork and hard- 
tack, with milkless and sugarless coffee ! Did 
any one ever taste such a good breakfast 
before ! 

Our fatigue had vanished with the night, 
and we noted that our feet, which had swol- 
len with the constant pressure and strain of 
carrying the loads, had begun to diminish in 
size and recover a little of their normal hard- 
ness, with increased strength and toughness. 
We were getting hardened to our work. The 
soldier soon learns not to remove much cloth- 
ing at night, but he always removes his shoes 
and stockings, if situated so that he can. " It 
gives the feet a chance to rest," was the oft- 
repeated phrase. An hour after the bugle 
had called us the column was winding out of 
the fields into the highway again. Such a 
camp as this had been was a delight and a 
joy, but not all of our camps were of that 
character. 

The road up the mountain was fairly good, 
and was not over-steep at any point ; but as 
it climbed on and on, winding in and out of 
the gorges, it was almost constant up-hill 
work. This mountain climb was fixed in my 
mind by an incident of the rivalry of regi- 
ments which sometimes cropped out. For 



Il8 AS SEE AT FROM THE RANKS 

some reasons well understood by veterans, 
but not so easy to explain to those who have 
not had the experience, marching at the rear 
of a long column is much harder work than 
it is to march at the head of the same column. 

As it happened, this day our place was at 
the rear of the brigade, and the pace was set 
by the regiment which had the lead, and a 
hard pace it proved to be. It taxed the 
courage and grit of the regiment to the ut- 
most, but there was a spirit and pride about 
it all; for nothing short of necessity would 
one fall out and be picked up by the ambu- 
lance. At last the mountain-top was reached 
and it proved to be as level as it had ap- 
peared from the distance. We continued 
along the top until we came near a little 
stream, where we went into camp just at 
dark. We were more fatigued than we had 
been at any time since we left the winter 
camp, and dire were the threats about what 
we would do to "that blasted regiment" if 
we ever got the chance. The opportunity 
came sooner than we expected, and it was 
fully improved. 

The very next day we were assigned to 
lead the brigade, and the regiment which had 
led us such a merry dance up the mountain- 



OVER THE CUMBERLAND MOUNTAINS 1 I9 

side the day before was placed at the tail end 
of the march. There had been a sombre 
cloud on Colonel Ketcham's ruddy brow the 
night before, and this morning, as he mounted 
his horse and turned to ride to the head, there 
was a little nervous twitching about his red 
beard that betokened something at work in 
his mind. He had noted the situation on the 
day before, but had said nothing, for he was 
not a talker. We had not 'marched many 
miles before we knew what he was thinking 
of, for he was leading off at a "reaching gait." 
The rests were short and few, and as he saw 
that the spirit of the thing was understood in 
the ranks, and that all were keeping up well, 
he increased the marching speed. 

The way was an unbroken forest and there 
was little undergrowth. The road wound up 
and down over the undulating surface, and 
for the most of the distance there was hardly 
any drift over the rough rock surface, and 
what little there was, was largely of broken 
rock, with no soil to speak of. The moun- 
tain air w^as exhilarating and our woes of yes- 
terday were forgotten as we swept on and on. 
Twenty miles we covered, and then we sud- 
denly came to the southern edge of the moun- 
tain plateau we had been traversing. The 



I20 AS SEE AT FROM THE RANKS 

road down the southern face of this mountain 
can only be so termed by courtesy. It was a 
path, a scramble, a slide, a zig-zag, a — well, 
anything but a road. How the wagons were 
got down I never knew. They must have 
been eased down with ropes in some places. 

Having descended at last, we found our- 
selves in a narrow side valley walled in by 
lofty mountains, and fed by great springs 
which poured in volumes from the base of the 
cliffs ; and now the rain began to descend, a 
steady and incessant downpour. When we 
halted for dinner about noon, we had covered 
nearly thirty miles since breakfast. In an 
incredibly short time there were hundreds of 
fires sending up their smoke clouds in defiance 
of the rain, and around each was a group of 
men holding little tin coffee pails over the fire 
on the ends of sticks, looking for all the world 
as if they might be fishing for salamanders. 

But what of that regiment with which we 
had hoped to get even — the one which had 
led us so jauntily the day preceding? They 
came grumbling and straggling in, foot-sore 
and fagged, and half the dinner hour was 
gone before they had all come up. We tri- 
umphed in the fact that they never again 
tried to ''push" us on the march. 



OVER THE CUMBERLAND MOUNTAINS 121 

In the afternoon we followed this little val- 
ley—more like a canon than a valley^to the 
Tennessee River. Wearied with the fatigue 
of crossing the mountain, and soaked to the 
skin, we pitched our little tents in the grass 
of the river bottom-lands, and, crawling under 
them, we slept in spite of wet clothes, wet 
grass, and wet everything; and I did not 
catch cold. I, for whom colds had been the 
bane of early life, never caught cold sleeping 
out of doors. This suggests that the "cold" 
microbe is kept alive in the house, and that 
the scientific house-cleaning of the future will 
include disinfection by some means. 

But this camp was not as cheerful as the 
one of two days before at Decherd. 

This passage of the Tennessee River 
through the mountains affords some of the 
most picturesque and impressive scenery 
that I have ever met with. At places there 
are beautiful plantations on a wide expanse 
of plain and meadow, which extend for miles 
away from the river to where they meet the 
mountain bluffs. Frequently, however, the 
mountains close in, the valley disappears, 
and the river holds its deep and silent course 
between lofty crags, along the foot of which 
the road winds in and out. Following up 



122 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

the course of the river we camped one night 
near a famous cavern known as " Nick-a-jack 
cave," said to be several miles in extent, 
rivalling Mammoth Cave in Kentucky. 

There are blood-curdling and romantic 
traditions connecting this place with the 
early history of this section. Migration in 
those days did not rush over the world by 
steam as at a later date, but moved forward 
step by step. The water transportation 
afforded by this river, however, enabled it 
to pass the Cumberland range at one great 
stride. The hardy Virginians clambered over 
the Blue Ridge into East Tennessee, and, 
launching their boats upon the river, quietly 
floated their goods and families hundreds of 
miles to the promised land of West Tennessee, 
and even to Kentucky. 

But there dwelt in this cave a powerful 
band of Indians, and as their hiding-place 
could not be found they ambushed and 
preyed upon parties of emigrants. They 
murdered one whole party except a little boy, 
whom they took to this cave and brought up 
as one of their number. But he remembered 
his people, and when he was eighteen years 
old escaped and made his way back to Vir- 
ginia, where he organized a party which he 



OVER Tm CUMBERLAND MOUNTA^INS 123 

led for weeks through the mountain by paths 
known only t^ Indians, until t>^e'y reached 
this hiding-placp^ where the tribe was com- 
pletely surprised ,^nd most of them killed. 

But these legena. of Indian warfare were 
almost obliterated by ihe greater mag'nitude 
of the white man's war, for tho State had been 
fought over before we came tliere and was 
destined to be again fought over before the 
close of the war. 




CHArTER XII 

OLD BATTLEFIELDS 

Lookout Mountain and its Surroundings — Gateway of 
the Confederacy — Battles and Battlefields of the 
Previous Year — River of Death — "Fighting Joe" 
Hooker — General Sherman, then and afterward — 
What is Meant by ' ' Flanking. ' ' 



IN due time we reached Lookout Mountain, 
and following the military road up its 
side and around its northern end there was 
stretched out before us a scene of surpassing 
interest, and my Imp has preserved it with 
such fidelity that if I were an artist I do not 
doubt that I could, from memory alone, place 
it on canvas to-day. We were on or near the 
ground where Hooker fought his romantic 
"battle above the clouds" the autumn be- 
fore. The right of his line of battle extended 
upward nearly to the mountain's summit, 
and while there was a bank of mist and cloud 
124 



OLD BATTLEFIELDS 1 25 

resting about its base and obscuring that por- 
tion from view, those near the top could 
be plainly seen, from Grant's headquarters; 
hence the seemingly fanciful phrase was lit- 
erally true. 

To the northeast and in plain view of this 
place the battle of Missionary Ridge was 
fought on the day succeeding the battle of 
Lookout Mountain. The two were, in fact, 
but the two days' fighting of what was really 
but one battle. i\t the southeast was the 
battlefield of Chickamauga, and a few miles 
to the north of where we stood was the town 
of Chattanooga, since grown to be a city of 
mining and industrial importance, while far 
to the northward extended the valley of East 
Tennessee, and west of us were the moun- 
tains through which we had come. This was, 
indeed, a "gateway" through which we were 
entering, and within sight of this spot had 
been enacted military achievements which it 
would require a volume to properly describe, 
and which have been classed by military 
critics as equal in brilliancy of thought and 
execution to any of Napoleon's famous 
exploits. 

But there is much besides the talents and 
genius of generals that sometimes has to do 



126 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

with the outcome of battles, and the conflict 
at Missionary Ridge illustrated this. 

Grant had carefully planned just how the 
action was to be conducted. He had directed 
a "demonstration" in front, in which the 
troops were ordered to capture and hold the 
first line of works and then halt and wait for 
other operations, for the enemy's second and 
third lines seemed to be almost inipregnable 
in their position, and even Grant would not 
waste lives in attempting their capture. But 
like the best laid plans of men and mice, these 
plans did not carry. The troops did indeed 
capture the enemy's first line, though with 
considerable effort and loss, and here they 
should have halted as ordered ; but not so. 

Success was in the air; the enemy were 
fleeing up the hill. Grant, standing on a hill 
where he could watch the whole action with 
his glass, saw the men scramble over the 
breastworks with a cheer, but to his amaze- 
ment he saw them push on up the hill with 
waving flags, unchecked by the belching can- 
non at the top or the blazing rifles in the 
second line of works, and firing as they 
climbed. Over the second line they rushed, 
and still on they clambered up the rugged 
hill until they actually captured the third and 



OLD BATTLEFIELDS 12/ 

last line of the enemy's works. The battle 
was won without orders — against orders, in 
fact. 

There is nothing that succeeds like success. 
If this movement had failed there would have 
been a long series of investigations and court- 
martials. But no one cares to find fault with 
success. 

We had now become in reality a part of the 
western army, having joined our Corps, the 
Twelfth, which had lately been consolidated 
with the Eleventh. The new body thus 
formed, being designated the Twentieth 
Army Corps, was placed under command of 
General Joseph Hooker. 

" Fighting Joe," as he was generally called, 
was the very ideal of a corps commander. 
The fact that he had failed to fully oust the 
Washington politicians from the command of 
the Army of the Potomac was no more than 
was true of all his predecessors, and if he was 
sometimes a little touchy towards his superior 
officers that fact did not militate against his 
popularity with the rank and file. True he 
had the reputation of working and fighting 
his corps most unflinchingly, but he also had 
the record of successes, as well as of being 
exceedingly careful and considerate of the 



128 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

welfare of his men. He was a superb horse- 
man, and in time of action seemed to be 
always present and always happy. His 
really manly qualities were so evident that it 
was no wonder he was popular. 

My own judgment at this distance of time 
is that the handling of a corps was about the 
limit of his capacity as a general, but that up 
to that point few, if any, were his superiors. 

General Grant had been summoned to the 
command of all the forces of the Union, and 
in his place there was a new man, up to that 
time but little heard of. In one of our daily 
marches we met a little cavalcade of horse- 
men, and riding at their head was an officer of 
somewhat striking appearance. He was tall 
and spare in form, and there was expressed in 
his bearing that which was the extreme oppo- 
site of inertia or sluggishness. His whole 
manner, whether in standing or riding, seemed 
the outward expression of exquisite life which 
vibrated through every fibre of his being. 

It was General Sherman, the new Com- 
mander of the army to which we were then 
attached, and from that time to the close 
of the war his was a familiar figure. So 
spontaneous and rapid was his own manner 
that he seemed sometimes impatient at the 



OLD BATTLEFIELDS 1 29 

slowness of others. This restiveness was 
by some persons mistakenly attributed to 
nervousness. 

A few weeks later I saw him standing on a 
battlefield and surrounded as before by his 
staff. The battle had begun and the bullets 
were singing past, but his seeming nervous- 
ness had now disappeared, and he was appar- 
ently the coolest and most unconcerned of 
the whole group of officers. 

A quarter of a century later I met him at a 
private social affair, which gave me an oppor- 
tunity for personal and social intercourse 
with this remarkable man, now famous in 
song and history. He had then nearly 
reached his three-score years and ten, yet 
while his beard and hair were white as snow, 
his form was but slightly bent, and his face, 
over which towered the striking forehead, 
looked as natural as ever. Alike in private 
conversation and in public reception he im- 
pressed me the same as before: that the 
preponderating element in his being was 
abundant life, — using the word in its fullest 
and completest sense, — life of the will, intel- 
lect, and body ; both subjective and creative 
life. 

He was by far the most intellectual officer 



130 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

of any who gained prominence during the 
war, and I once heard General Kilpatrick 
speak of him as the greatest soldier he ever 
knew. He had seen three years of service, 
much of it under Grant, and at the time of 
which I write — the spring of '64 — he began 
his career as the successful commander of a 
large army. 

After leaving the vicinity of Lookout 
Mountain our march continued eastward and 
southeastward. There followed days and 
nights of the usual campaign experience of an 
army, in which physical endurance is put to 
the utmost test of its staying quality. As I 
once heard a veteran say, — and he spoke a 
great truth, — "One who has not served in 
the army does not know the meaning of the 
word 'tired.' " 

When men are thoroughly "tired," they 
have then only begun to do what they are 
capable of doing and what they are frequently 
obliged to accomplish in war, and the phrase, 
"completely exhausted," means to a soldier 
nothing short of death. That an army could, 
as a whole, endure such conditions was partly 
at least accounted for by the fact that they 
were a selected class of men, and no one was 
enrolled without first j)assing a rigorous phy- 



OLD BATTLEFIELDS 131 

sical examination. Then, too, the rank and 
file were composed, for the most part, of men 
between the ages of eighteen and twenty-five, 
a time when the elasticity and recuperating 
power of youth are still retained, and when 
the currents of life are running at their 
strongest spring-tide. But the severity of 
the conditions is attested by the records, 
which show that, even with this selected 
class, the hardships killed twice as many as 
the guns did, for moving armies left a line of 
countless graves in their wake. 

On our way we passed the battlefield of 
Chickamauga. The battle was fought in the 
autumn before and resulted in a severe defeat 
to our army there engaged. There is a cer- 
tain gruesomeness about an old battlefield, 
not yet so old that nature has claimed 
her own and covered the scars. Trees and 
branches that were torn were still hanging, 
though shrivelled and dead, and there was 
still a stench of decaying flesh in the air. 

Some of the slain had been buried, though 
it had been hastily and imperfectly done. 
Protruding shoes here and there showed the 
bones of the foot inside, the flesh having dis- 
appeared, and not infrequently a hand would 
be seen extended above the ground, with the 



132 AS SEE AT FROM THE RANKS 

skin dried to the bones and weathered to the 
color of granite. The fingers would be 
curved as if beckoning, but in one instance I 
noted that the index finger was pointed up- 
ward. In one locality many hundreds had 
been left unburied, and the bones were peep- 
ing through the clothing. I picked up a 
skull which had a smooth, round hole through 
it; small it was, but yet large enough to let 
a life pass out. 

Before night we came to the Chickamauga 
River, where its wine-colored water flows 
through dark woods, and there we went into 
camp. The name is said to be Indian, and 
signifies in their language, " River of Death." 

Thus far we had come over old ground, but 
we had entered the "gateway," and were 
now well started on an aggressive campaign 
which was destined to take us into the very 
heart of the Confederacy, and in time clear 
through it. The roaring of cannon was 
heard in some direction every day, but be- 
tween manoeuvering, fighting, and night 
marching, the enemy was forced or flanked 
out of one position after another. 

Does the unmilitary reader know what 
happens when a line of battle, or an army, is 
" flanked " ? It was best described by a pris- 



OLD BATTLEFIELDS 



133 



oner whom the pickets brought in one day. 
In the course of a Httle raillery and chaffing 
in conversation he was asked why their army 
kept falling back ; why they did not stay and 
fight it out. His reply was, ** You'ns swings 
roun' on our een's, like a gate." This, then, 
in some form, is what constitutes flanking. 




CHAPTER XIII 

BATTLE OF RESACA 

Gruesome Preparations — Battle Scene like a Play Set 
on the Stage — Assault by Colonel (afterward Presi- 
dent) Harrison — Our Regiment Engaged — Enemy 
Repulsed — Confederate Chaplain Slain, with his 
Sons — Removing the Wounded — Confederate Field 
Hospital — Bridge Building Hastened. 

AT last, as we approached Resaca, we 
could hear the sound of musketry. Not 
the long roar of a regular engagement with 
its thundering of cannon for bass accompani- 
ment, but a staccato solo as it were, in which 
there was an angry and defiant crackling of 
rifles along a skirmish line some two or three 
miles in length. We recognized that the two 
armies were again confronting each other, and 
that this time we were likely to be in it, in 
which expectation we were not disappointed. 
In respect to this battle my Imp again 
refuses to furnish a continuous record, but 
134 



BATTLE OF RE SAC A 1 35 

instead hands down a group of scenes, each 
unfaded in detail, but unconnected from the 
continuity of events. 

At one place where we halted, a body of 
men were digging graves. Not seeing any 
dead near I inquired of one of their number 
what they were for, and was informed that 
as the ambulance corps had nothing to do 
just then, and a battle was expected, they 
were put to work digging graves — for men 
who had not yet gone into battle. 

Late in the afternoon we were hurried at 
double-quick through glade and dell towards 
where there was firing. When our division 
arrived at the scene it was formed in line by 
brigades in such a manner that our brigade 
was not actually engaged, but was held in re- 
serve on top of a ridge of ground from whence 
the brief engagement could be seen with the 
utmost distinctness. It was an attempt by 
the enemy to capture a battery at the left of 
our line, and thus be enabled to turn our 
flank, and for one slow-passing hour it seemed 
to be a crisis on which hung the fate of the 
battle. During this time the conflict was on 
an open plain in full view before us, and the 
whole scene could be watched as plainly as a 
play set on the stage. 



136 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

Away to the left, just at the Hmit of the 
view from where we were, was the battery of 
six field-pieces, and they had been supported 
by a force which had been considered ade- 
quate. The ever-vigilant enemy, however, 
had discovered that this point was assailable, 
and waiting until just as night was settling 
down, thought to capture the battery and the 
position by a sudden onslaught, and then 
under cover of darkness throw our broken 
line into confusion. 

It came near being a repetition of the de- 
feat of our army at Chancellors ville, for their 
attack was at first entirely successful. When 
we came in view the troops which had been 
supporting the battery were scattered over 
the fields in complete defeat and confusion, 
and the enemy were resolutely assaulting the 
battery itself, firing as they advanced. With 
the artillerymen it was a question of how 
fast, with their decimated ranks, they could 
load and fire, the grape and canister tearing 
great gaps through the enemy's lines at each 
discharge. With the Confederate troops it 
was a question of whether they could bear 
this destruction until they should reach the 
guns, and either kill or capture the gunners. 

The disposition of our force was made with 



BATTLE OF RE SAC A 1 37 

the utmost dispatch, and presently we saw, 
from the top of the ridge where we were, the 
Third Brigade step briskly out of the woods 
into full view. There was an instant's pause, 
and then the gathering dusk showed their 
volley in a sheet of flame and smoke springing 
from the line. The enemy were surprised. 
Our formation, being in the woods, had prob- 
ably not been noticed by them, but they 
were not recruits to be panic-stricken by the 
unexpected, and unflinchingly they faced the 
new force. 

Now the conflict became a test of nerve and 
endurance, and the lines settled down to 
their work, each man loading and firing as 
fast as he could, and the noise of the guns 
thickened into a long roar, accented by the 
deep bass of the cannon. It was a "stand 
up and take it " fight, for neither side had any 
cover. Steadily, steadily our line moved for- 
ward, still firing rapidly, and steadily the 
enemy held to their position. Would they 
come to bayonets? At last we saw the 
enemy's fire slacken and then cease, and 
through the smoke and gathering darkness 
we caught glimpses of them running back 
into the woods. 

* ' Blow ' cease firing ! " ' The voice was that 



138 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

of Gen. A. S. Williams— " old Pop" Wil- 
liams, as the boys affectionately referred to 
him among themselves, — and the order was 
addressed to the brigade bugler, Stevenson, 
who, as it happened, was a member of our 
regiment. Stevenson had been as intensely 
interested as the others in the drama before 
us, and he afterward told me that it was the 
only time he was ever ordered to blow ' ' Cease 
firing." Now, with the suddenness of the 
order he could not remember the signal, but 
he clapped the bugle to his lips and blew — 
something; and the firing ceased. The sig- 
nal had not been needed, for the men saw 
that the enemy had retreated irovci their 
front, and they stopped firing without regard 
to that uncertain sound from Stevenson's 
instrument. 

The battery was saved and the day was 
saved. Once more the enemy had been 
foiled; but it was only a skirmish after all, 
and is scarcely mentioned in history; the 
battle was as yet hardly begun. It is very 
rarely that one is thus enabled to see plainly 
both sides in an engagement. 

Another picture which the Imp has handed 
down is of the occurrences of the next day. 
There were open fields between our line and 



BATTLE OF RE SAC A 1 39 

the enemy's, and in the distance we could see 
a redoubt or fort of some kind on their Hne. 
Some distance to our right we saw a body 
of troops advance over the open space to 
assault this fort. It was the 70th Indiana 
Volunteer Infantry, under command of Col- 
onel Benjamin Harrison, of whom my readers 
have since heard. He was the grandson of his 
grandfather, and like that eminent ancestor 
had an unstained military record, though it 
was by no means brilliant, but that day's 
undertaking was one of the things in which 
he did not succeed. After his regiment had 
suffered a severe loss they were compelled to 
abandon the attempt. 

At one time, when we were being moved 
from one part of the field to another position, 
we passed a place where our troops had evi- 
dently been under fire, for there were a num- 
ber of dead scattered about. Especially was 
this the case on a certain hillside covered 
with woods, and among them I noticed one 
who had fallen, and, apparently to keep him- 
self from sliding down the steep slope, had 
seized a sapling with both hands. He was 
stretched at full length on his back, and with 
arms reaching above his head his hands still 
held to their grip on the tree. His face, with 



140 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

the wide-open eyes, almost startled one at 
first, it had such an anxious and pained 
expression. 

The battle was raging furiously now, and it 
was soon after the episode of Colonel Har- 
rison's attack and repulse that our brigade 
became engaged on the extreme left. We 
were formed in line on a rise of ground in an 
open field, and threw up a slight defence by 
gathering and piling up the rails from a fence 
near at hand. Soon the long gray line was 
seen approaching, with good alignment and 
steady front. Upon coming within range 
they opened fire and continued to fire as 
they advanced, the bullets splintering the 
rails, and passing us with that peculiar, zip- 
ping sound so familiar to veterans. Im- 
mediately there was a crash close to my left, 
— the first gun always sounds so loud, — fol- 
lowed in quick succession by others until 
what had seemed at first but a successive 
clatter of explosions became one prolonged 
roar. The smoke soon became so thick that 
it was difficult for me to see the enemy's line 
except by glimpses and fragments. 

In a few moments the fire lessened and 
finally ceased; the smoke cloud lifted and I 
could see plainly again. They were retreating 



BATTLE OF RE SAC A 141 

in disorder now, but scattered over the field 
were hundreds of their dead and wounded 
who could not retreat. The fire of our line 
had been very deadly and effective. We 
soon noticed by their movements that they 
were forming for a second attack. This was 
much like the first, but they were more per- 
sistent and got nearer to our line, though they 
were finally driven back before the storm of 
lead, and the dead and wounded in our front 
were thicker than ever. Just at the crisis the 
regiment at our right made a counter charge 
and captured a stand of the enemy's colors. 

So severely did the enemy suffer in this 
assault on our line that Colonel Calhoun, who 
commanded the Confederate regiment in our 
front, afterward admitted to General Smith, 
then our Major, that his regiment never had 
a roll-call afterward. 

A pathetic incident in connection with this 
attack was that among the Confederate dead 
which lay so thickly strewn before us was a 
family group; a gray-haired chaplain and 
his two sons. 

As hostilities had ceased for the time at 
that part of the field, the task of removing 
the wounded to the rear commenced. There 
were no stretchers at hand, so we improvised 



142 ^S SEEN- FROM THE RANKS 

by using blankets and half -tents. When you 
start with a helpless man in a blanket he 
seems to weigh about a hundred pounds, but 
after you have gone a fraction of the distance 
you will think he weighs five hundred, and by 
the time you have carried your burden half a 
mile you will be ready to make affidavit to a 
weight in excess of anything on record ; espe- 
cially if part of the course, as it was in this 
case, happens to be in range of the enemy's 
fire. 

We soon found where the surgeon had 
established himself in a hollow in the woods, 
and after we had brought all of our wounded 
to that place we set to work under his orders. 
Night found us tired and fasting, but with 
crackers and coffee and a few hours of sleep 
we felt restored; and when we awoke at 
dawn it was to find that the enemy had re- 
treated from their position during the night. 

In this retreat they had crossed the Oos- 
tenaula River, here a stream of considerable 
size, and as a matter of course they had de- 
stroyed the bridge. This necessitated the 
building of a new one, as for some reason the 
pontoon battalion was not on hand; for 
although a few men can be got across a river 
without much difficulty, the rapid crossing of 



BATTLE OF RESACA 143 

an army is quite another matter. There was 
a story told, which was current in the army 
at the time, about the building of this new 
structure. 

It seems that the Chief of Engineers in this 
army was accustomed to more leisurely 
methods than could now be tolerated under 
the new commander. When the General 
asked him how much time would be required 
to make the new bridge, he replied that it 
would require two or three days. Upon this 
— so the story went — Sherman informed him 
that if it was not finished before night he 
could resign his position, as that army would 
have no further use for him. 

It was said that the revelation in this im- 
perative dictum of the newer element that 
had taken control gave such an impetus to 
the faculties of the Chief of Engineers that 
he surprised both himself and his commander 
by completing the bridge in even less than the 
limit of time assigned. I do not vouch for 
the truthfulness of the story, but I can vouch 
for the fact that we crossed the new bridge 
long before night on the day after the battle 
closed. 

In leaving this battlefield we passed along 
much of the ground which had been occupied 



144 ^^ SEEiV FROM THE RANKS 

by the enemy, and this inside view of the lat- 
ter' s position is ahvays of more than passing 
interest. It furnishes a sort of "put-your- 
self-in-his-place " experience, by which we 
were enabled to take the same view which 
the Confederates had of our position, and also 
to compare our previous impressions of their 
position with the reality. I was especially 
interested in the redoubt which Colonel Har- 
rison's attack had been directed against, for 
we found it to be a veritable stronghold in a 
position well selected for defence. 

Soon after reaching this point we passed 
through what had been, on the day before, a 
Confederate field hospital. Of course it al- 
ways happens in field hospitals that many of 
the wounded die, both before and after re- 
ceiving the surgeon's attentions, and there 
were many of their dead here. One even lay 
stark and rigid on the surgeon's operating 
table, which seemed to indicate that the 
desertion of this place had been very hasty. 

The surgeon's table in this case was not a 
folding and portable thing such as our sur- 
geons used, but was a rough convenience 
made on the spot. Crotches had been set in 
the ground, with cross-pieces resting in them, 
on which were laid poles of even size long 



BATTLE OF RESACA 145 

enough for a table top. It was a rough affair 
at the best, but seemed to have answered the 
purpose. Our own army was none too well 
supplied with conveniences for the comfort of 
the wounded, but in the Confederate service 
there was a still greater deficiency, because 
they could not obtain them. 

The turkey buzzards, with their sooty, 
dishevelled plumage and filthy beaks, were 
circling lower and lower over the field, but 
the Pioneer Corps were busy now burying the 
dead, both of the Blue and the Gray, while 
the wounded were being got away to the 
North. So these North American vultures 
would feast this time only on dead horses. 

Youth and Hope go hand in hand and will 
not be depressed, and as we pushed on after 
the enemy we laughed and joked as before. 




CHAPTER XIV 

THE MYSTIC CHORDS OF MEMORY 

Memories Revived by Old Letters — The Sanitary and 
Christian Commissions — "Uncle John" Vassar, 
the Army Missionary — Captain Cruger Wounded 
— The New Chaplain Wished to See a Battle — 
"Sherman's Method" — The Recruit and the Gen- 
eral — Confederate Letter. 

" T^HE mystic chords of memory, stretch- 
1 ing from every battlefield and patriot 
grave to every living hearth and hearthstone 
all over this broad land, will yet swell the 
chorus of the Union, when again touched, as 
surely they will be, by the better angels of 
our nature." 

Surely our good Lincoln had forgotten for 
the moment the immediate public when he 
penned these lines, and, writing to himself, 
wrote to an eternal public. It gave us a 
glimpse, too, underneath his rugged manhood 
146 



THE MYSTIC CHORDS OF MEMORY 1 47 

and heroic qualities of leadership, of a pro- 
found poetic imagination blended with pro- 
phetic foresight. Fortunate Lincoln ! So soon 
himself to fill a patriot's grave! The assas- 
sin's bullet placed him forever secure in the 
temple of fame, and that nobler temple, the 
affections of his countrymen, before un- 
toward circumstance or human frailty had 
robbed him of the right. That ''chorus of 
the Union ' ' has been rolling calmly on these 
many years, and the "better angels" were 
not inactive even then. 

Those mystic chords of memory were stirred 
and quickened again when there was handed 
to me a letter which gave some account of 
the battle of Resaca. It was a letter written 
by a soldier boy to his sister, and the paper 
bore an imprint that reads like an enigma to 
the present generation. At the top of the 
sheet is a printed heading, a dove in flight, 
with a letter tied to its neck, and underneath 
this emblem are these words: ''The U. S. 
Christian Commission sends this sheet as the 
soldier's message to his home. Let it haste 
to those that wait for tidings." 

Doubtless some will read these lines, won- 
dering who or what was this "Commission" 
which so strangely mingled the symbols of 



148 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

peace with those of war. It was a voluntary 
organization which, co-operating with its sis- 
ter organization the Sanitary Commission, 
and making the army chaplains their agents, 
kept in touch with the citizen soldiers. 

Had the incidents of camp and field de- 
prived them of the means to write a letter? 
The chaplain could supply them. Did 
scurvy break out and defy the medicine 
chest? The chaplain would soon receive a 
supply of pickles and other antidotes. Were 
there cold fingers on picket duty? See the 
chaplain, and perhaps some patriotic girl in 
the North had knit and contributed to the 
Commission barrel some woollen gloves. 
Was there idleness in camp ? The seemingly 
inexhaustible Commissions had a supply of 
reading matter also. 

And so all through the army these twin 
Commissions ministered to the well and to the 
sick, to the wounded and the dying. There 
were none more active in this service of love 
than the army missionary, John Vassar, who 
was a familiar figure to every one who served 
in the Army of the Potomac. ' ' Uncle John, 
as he was familiarly known, was equally an 
adept at marching, nursing, and praying, and 
there are still many living who gratefully re- 



THE MYSTIC CHORDS OF MEMORY 1 49 

member the mingled spiritual and bodily ser- 
vice rendered by him in their hours of need. 

We may listen again to those mystic chords 
whose memories are surely now controlled by 
the better angels of our natures. We have 
long since learned that the conflict was not 
one of principalities and powers, but rather a 
conflict between the powers of great prin- 
ciples ; a fierce struggle between two civiliza- 
tions, in which the ancient and barbaric 
institution of race slavery, fighting for its 
life, at last went down. We now remember 
conditions and events as the product of in- 
stitutions rather than as indicating the pecu- 
liarities of a people, for the two opposing 
forces were of one race. The well-known 
horrors of the Southern prison system, the 
dense ignorance and hatred of some of the 
Confederate prisoners with whom we came 
in contact, sometimes coupled with brutish 
malignity, were all the natu];al ofi:spring of 
the peculiar institution. 

In the previous chapter I gave some ac- 
count of the battle of Resaca. Among those 
of our regiment who were there wounded was 
Captain S. Van Rensselaer Cruger, then Adju- 
tant of the regiment. This is a name that 
will be recognized by New York readers, in 



150 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS . 

the circles of politics as well as of society. 
He fell to the ground a few feet from me, and 
I afterward assisted in carrying him to the 
field hospital, where his wounds were at first 
declared fatal. But his good constitution, 
strengthened by a pure life, enabled him to 
pleasantly disappoint the surgeons. His re- 
covery from such severe wounds was the 
more remarkable, as most of the other 
wounded died, as I afterward learned, owing 
to the fact that scurvy had already infested 
the army, for nothing more surely destroys 
the healing power of the body than this insid- 
ious disease. 

In the same brigade with my regiment was 
the 2d Massachusetts Infantry, and the chap- 
lain of that regiment developed a rare ability 
of executive and leadership quality, which 
was recognized by the officer having charge 
of that medical department. Although it 
was not customary to give a chaplain any 
command, he gave this chaplain command 
and direction of the ambulance train of our 
brigade during this engagement, a sphere in 
which he proved very efficient. 

It happened that in another regiment in 
our brigade was a new chaplain, who had 
just received his commission, and he came to 



THE MYSTIC CHORDS OF MEMORY 151 

the Massachusetts chaplain with a strange 
request. He had never seen a battle, and 
simply asked that he might be assigned to a 
place at the front; some one must go there, 
and he desired to do his duty and at the same 
time gratify an almost feminine curiosity to 
know what a battle was like. 

''Certainly," said the New Englander; "go 
with the stretcher bearers; your assistance 
will be needed there." And then, in a humor 
quite his own, he added a parting jest, " I can 
*eat crow,' but I don't love the diet." As it 
happened, before night the new chaplain was 
himself borne to the rear on a stretcher, hav- 
ing been crippled by a shot through the leg. 
As he passed he called out to the Massachu- 
setts chaplain, with the grim humor of an 
unruffled courage, "I say, Quint, I can 'eat 
crow,' too, but I have had enough." The 
comedy had a tragic ending, however, for the 
poor fellow died of his wound. Historians 
rarely give due credit +^ this devoted class of 
men, for records show tnat more than a hun- 
dred chaplains in our army lost their lives in 
battle during the war. 

It was more than a dozen years later that 
I met our Massachusetts chaplain again, and 
I did not recognize him then. It was at a 



152 ^S SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

city in his State, and the writer was a con- 
spicuous party in a ceremony in which the 
obhgations assumed are the most solemn a 
man can take upon himself. The chap- 
lain, now grown gray and dignified, was 
the officiating clergyman. It was the late 
Dr. Alonzo H. Quint. But another dozen 
years had passed, and a friendship had 
sprung up between us, before we happened 
to learn that we had served and marched 
together, and during this battle, at least, had 
worked together among the wounded. The 
same talents and devotion which made his 
service so efficient in war yielded also the 
victories of peace, and he became known 
throughout all Congregationalism as the best 
of presiding officers and advisers, alike for 
men and churches. 

Thus, as Past and Present touch finger-tips 
across the chasm of time we are saved from 
thinking that either is a dream, but realize 
that both are realities, and that when these 
events occurred it was "now" as much as it 
is at the present time. 

I see that Grant, in his Memoirs, classes 
the action at Resaca as a skirmish, which, 
however, is incorrect, as the engagement was 
continuous and general for some time. Gen- 



THE MYSTIC CHORDS OF MEMORY 1 53 

eral Grant was very busy in Virginia about 
that time and really knew very little about 
the details of our campaign. But it would, 
perhaps, convey a more correct impression 
to say that the whole four months' cam- 
paign from Chattanooga to Atlanta was al- 
most a continuous battle, for not many days 
passed that some part of Sherman's army did 
not come in conflict with the enemy, and 
some of these actions were stubborn and 
prolonged. 

The campaign was understood by every 
one in the ranks to have Atlanta as its objec- 
tive point, but as to how the end was to be 
obtained there was much diversity of opinion. 
It was noticed, however, as the summer 
advanced, that this diversity vanished, and 
it was conceded by all that "Sherman's 
method" was in being always on the aggres- 
sive, and thus compelling the enemy to be 
continually on the defensive; and this was 
accomplished by persistent hard fighting and 
marching. 

The Twentieth Corps held the only troops 
that served in both the East and West, and 
they probably had a more varied experience 
under different commanders than any other 
portion of our armies. They served under 



154 ^^ SEEN FROM THE RANKS 



the several commanders of the Army of the 
Potomac, then under Grant about Chatta- 
nooga, and under Sherman to the close of the 
war. I think it will be the universal testi- 
mony of the members of that corps that no 
general understood better than Sherman the 
art of marching an army, and no one was 
more ready to demand extreme exertion if the 
occasion required it. Yet I doubt if any 
commander had more the complete confi- 
dence and esteem of his men. 

I have spoken of our laughing and joking, 
but it occurs to me that some may wonder 
what could possibly be found as an excuse for 
humor at such times and amid such scenes. 
Well, for that matter, almost anything will 
answer where the disposition and necessity 
are. After recruits began to be sent to the 
regiments they were as inexhaustible a source 
of joy to the veterans as are the proverbial 
Freshmen to the college Sophs. There was 
one who "guessed" the evening order to 
march at daylight would not be executed, 
because it "looked like rain." Imagine the 
roars of laughter from around that camp- 
fire. But the most enjoyed of all these 
involuntary entertainers was the one who 
wanted to get his boot mended. 



t 
THE MYSTIC CHORDS OF MEMORY 155 

Now it happened that that brigade was 
under the command of a Brigadier-General 
whom I will call General K. It was not at 
all to the discredit of this officer that he began 
life as a shoemaker, for he had risen to his 
then position by sheer ability, and was a 
most efficient officer, though somewhat quick 
tempered betimes. 

Of course, when the recruit innocently in- 
quired one night for the shoemaker he was 
promptly directed to the large tent on the hill, 
and the General's name was given as that of 
''the shoemaker of the brigade." The in- 
nocent was watched with much interest as he 
wended his way in that direction, boot in 
hand, and was finally seen to enter the bri- 
gade headquarters tent. The details of the 
brief interview within we were never able to 
fully glean, but the exit was hasty, and some 
observers averred that they had caught 
glimpses of a boot in the inquirer's rear, and 
even that the guard had to render him some 
assistance in getting disentangled from the 
tent- ropes. 

It sometimes happened as we followed the 
retreating army that we found letters and 
other things of interest which had been 
dropped or lost. It was always possible that 



156 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

such things might contain matters of • im- 
portance, hence every scrap of paper having 
writing on it was hkely to be picked up and 
examined. I do not remember that I ever 
found anything of much value or assistance 
in the prosecution of the war, but some few 
things proved to be of passing interest. 

Thus at Gettysburg I picked up a Confed- 
erate furlough which had been granted to 
''E. Williamson, G Company, 3d Reg., Ala. 
Vols." for twenty days from September 6, 
1862, with transportation to Anderson, S. C, 
and back. It is signed in a bold hand, " By 
order Gen. Winder," and across the face it is 
endorsed by " D. H. Wood, Capt.," and " Jno. 
Johns, Lt. & A. A. C. S." 

My "find" after the battle of Resaca did 
not furnish any autographs of historic per- 
sonages like the one at Gettysburg. It was 
a letter dated .at "Comberlan Gap," and 
was evidently from a Confederate soldier who 
had been home on a furlough, to his "Dear 
Cosin" in the Georgia army. Its delightful 
frankness and the quaintness of its expres- 
sion were quite amusing, and I will give a 
paragraph, but without invading the sacred- 
ness of family secrets by disclosing the writer's 
name. 



THE MYSTIC CHORDS OF MEMORY 1 57 

" ... in particular I would 
inform you that miss Joies is 
well and in the greatest 
capasities of sociabilties. she 
sang so sweet ; she maid me 
Feel enchanted, with the lisp of 
Her sweet voice that are surtin 
To captivate, the most sincere 
Affections of one, that had been 
Struck with cupid's flying quiver, 
enough of that." 

The confusing metaphor employed here 
does not leave it quite clear what " that " was 
of which the writer indicates there was 
''enough." 




CHAPTER XV 

THE BATTLE OF NEW HOPE CHURCH 

Mind- Readers and Coming Events — Popular Misappre- 
hensions—Battles are Fought by the Rank and 
File — Field Hospitals — Pathetic Scenes — Rebuild- 
ing — Advancing — Pursuing. 

ONE pleasant day, a week or more after 
the battle of Resaca, we were ap- 
proaching the vicinity of Dallas and crossed 
a brook called ' ' Pumpkin Vine Creek. ' ' This 
pleasant-sounding bucolic title, however, has 
been deemed too prosaic to be inscribed on 
granite monuments erected to immortalize 
heroic regiments, and the battle which was 
fought here has been rechristened "New 
Hope Church." The Confederates were 
heavily intrenched in a strong position at this 
place, and it was assigned to the First and 
Second Divisions of our corps (ours was the 
First) to attempt its capture. The attempt 
158 



BATTLE OF NEW HOPE CHURCH 1 59 

was a failure at that time, and resulted in a 
heavy loss to us. 

Our division was commanded then by 
Brigadier-General A. S. Williams, the same 
that I have already referred to as "Pop" 
Williams. He was a most efficient officer, 
and in the Savannah campaign which fol- 
lowed was promoted to Major-General, and 
commanded the Twentieth Corps. 

Now, a general must have his own plans 
and keep his own counsel, but his daily life is 
open to the vision of an army, for he lives in 
"that fierce light which beats upon the 
throne." It was not strange then that the 
men in the ranks were in the habit of making 
a shrewd study of the faces of those who were 
supposed to know of intended movements and 
plans for battle. No doubt the generals 
knew this and tried to cultivate a good bear- 
ing at critical times. I remember that when 
our brigade was at Gettysburg it was at one 
time waiting idly, but in a position where 
shells came uncomfortably near us. There 
was some uneasiness manifested among the 
men until General Lockwood seated himself 
quietly on a stump in a conspicuous place, 
and immediately became absorbed in a news- 
paper which he took out of his pocket. 



l6o AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

If " Pop" Williams ever had any emotions, 
he took good care not to let them show in his 
face, for through all times and places it wore 
an expression of impenetrable good nature 
which was a closed book to the would-be 
mind-readers. But there was one thing 
which he failed to mask, and that was the 
cigar which was carried in his mouth most of 
the time. Was it lighted and emitting a 
cheerful cloud of smoke ? All would be quiet 
for the day. Had it been allowed to go out, 
while the end was being violently chewed? 
Then plans were maturing and some new 
movement was on foot. But when it was 
frequently shifted from side to side in his 
mouth and kept rolling over and over be- 
tween the lips, "like a log in the peeler," as 
the paper-pulp man said, then there would 
surely be a fight before dark. 

This battle near New Hope Church was a 
surprise to many, for it opened with the sud- 
denness of a cyclone descending from a clear 
sky, without the usual prelude of skirmish 
firing. But those mind-readers who had 
carefully noted his cigar that morning as the 
General rode past with his staff said that it 
had not been lighted at all, but was rolling 
between his lips with unusual vigor. 



BATTLE OF NEW HOPE CHURCH l6l 

In my experience of this battle I saw far 
more of its wreckage than I saw of its action, 
for the small portion of the conflict that I 
actually witnessed was in dense woods, and 
I was soon busily engaged with others in car- 
rying the wounded to the rear. 

I trust that no young reader has the idea 
that I had when a boy. I thought that in 
battle the bands and drum corps marched 
ahead of the soldiers and played sweet music 
to drown the groans of the dying and cheer 
the living on to victory and glory. Had I not 
seen more than one brave picture of our re- 
vered ancestral patriots being led to the fray 
in that poetic manner? 

But in real service I never heard a note of 
music during a battle. Occasionally the 
piercing sounds of a bugle would be heard, 
for in some parts of the army orders are given 
by certain understood signals on the bugle. 
The notes of this instrument have such a 
penetrating and far-reaching quality that it 
can be heard when, in the din of battle, the 
voice would reach but a short distance. We 
were called upon to issue liberal "music 
rations," from time to time, especially in the 
camps; but battles are very prosaic affairs, 
and the General's ideas about musicians' 



1 62 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

duties at such times were entirely utilitarian, 
for we were invariably detailed to assist in 
some capacity about the wounded. 

Another popular misconception about the 
conduct of battles is that a general " leads " a 
charge by riding ahead of his line and shout- 
ing "Follow me!" This, perhaps, is not 
strange, for who ever saw a newspaper ac- 
count of that date which did not describe a 
brilliant charge in about that way? As a 
matter of fact, when a line of battle is formed, 
the officers' place is not in front, but in the 
rear of the line; for it must be kept con- 
stantly in mind, whatever eulogistic biog- 
raphers may say to the contrary, that battles 
are not fought by the officers, for they only 
direct the fighting. The battle is fought by 
the rank and file. Officers must, of course, 
be where they can both receive and give 
orders, and this could not be done if they 
were in front of their own line, and as a 
general rule the higher the rank of the officer 
the farther to the rear, from very necessity, 
his position must be. 

As soon as possible after a battle has begun 
the surgeons establish themselves in a favor- 
able position near at hand, and, having the 
wounded brought there, give them imme- 



BATTLE OF NEW HOPE CHURCH 1 63 

diate attention. This is called a field hospi- 
tal, and the operations and dressings which 
they received there were likely to be the last 
they would have from surgeons until they 
reached a permanent hospital in the North, 
perhaps a week or more afterward. 

At New Hope Church the field hospital was 
promptly located in a stately pine forest, 
where the ground was so thickly covered with 
pine needles that the tramp of armies and the 
rumble of wagons was rendered almost noise- 
less. The position was also protected by a 
little rise of ground from wandering projec- 
tiles that might come from the line of hostili- 
ties in our front. Numerous large tents were 
erected to shelter the wounded from the 
pouring rain which soon set in. The rain 
ceased next day, but as the battle continued 
the tents were filled and many long rows of 
the wounded were laid under the trees. 

I remained at this field hospital about a 
week. Part of my time was spent in assist- 
ing the surgeons at the operating table, and 
much of the nights were filled in the care of 
the wounded. Even now my Imp crowds 
the memory with the pictures of that week: 
of the enemy's night attacks, with their 
shrieking accompaniment of the " Rebel yell," 



164 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

followed by the roar of musketry and the 
strong cheers in deep chest tones from our 
line when the attack was repulsed; of the 
agony of some of my patients who died of 
lockjaw; of the freshly wounded continually 
brought in. The surgeons would make a 
preliminary examination as soon as possible 
to determine the general character of the 
wound, and, possibly giving a few instruc- 
tions, would pass on. 

Here, for instance, is a man in the prime 
of early manhood stretched on the ground in 
evident distress. The surgeon opens his coat 
and shirt in front, and turning them back 
reveals the wound, a bullet hole in the right 
breast. Its centre, as large as the thumb 
nail, is a clot which sinks deep in with each 
respiration and then bulges out. It is circled 
round with its fringe of destroyed tissue, 
black at its inner edge and shading away 
through successive purple, leaden, and ashen 
tints to the alabaster whiteness of the skin. 

Each labored breath, staining the tawny 
mustache with its crimson tide, tells me, 
even before the doctor has given the word, — 
"Done for; that shot through the lungs will 
use him up before morning," — that the case 
is hopeless and before another day has 



BATTLE OF NEW HOPE CHURCH 1 65 

dawned the gasping struggle for breath will 
have ceased. Thenceforth he will receive no 
further attention, except that the nurses will 
frequently give him water. 

Attendants in field hospitals witness many 
such pathetic scenes, different from those in 
general hospitals where lingering sickness and 
emaciated forms are always present. But 
here are sun-burned men, suddenly stricken 
in their full vigor ; here are the freshly torn 
muscles and dripping blood, and tragic death 
scenes. 

I remember a fine-looking young fel- 
low, hardly twenty-one, who was mortally 
wounded. His frequent request was for 
water, and finally, seeing that he could last 
but a few moments, I knelt by his side and at 
frequent intervals put a little in his mouth 
with a spoon. Finally his parched lips could 
not open to speak the word or receive the 
water even, but the pleading look came into 
his eyes, and, understanding it, I dipped my 
finger in the water and moistened his lips. 
To my surprise they parted in a pleasant 
smile. I glanced quickly to his eyes, but 
saw that I was looking at the half-closed 
windows of an empty tenement ; that smile 
had spanned two shores. 



1 66 AS SEE AT FROM THE RANKS 

At another time there was a strong man of, 
perhaps, twenty-five, who sat on the ground. 
One hand rested on the ground and the other 
on his thigh, while his head drooped forward. 
If you would see his exact counterpart look at 
the Dying Gladiator. The sculptor of that 
ancient statue must have seen something 
besides professional poseurs. The modern 
gladiator called frequently for the doctor, and 
an attendant, pointing him out, spoke to the 
surgeon, but the latter said that he had ex- 
amined the case and could do nothing for 
him, as he was bleeding to death internally. 
The nurse returned, and, kneeling by his side, 
spoke in a low tone to the dying man ; then 
took out a pocket memorandum and began to 
pencil down a last message to distant friends. 
But as many fresh wounded were being 
brought in just then, and help was scarce, the 
surgeon called him. 

He sprang to his feet and left the dying 
soldier — alone; for his regiment was at the 
front, and among the many within sound of 
his voice he was an entire stranger. He occa- 
sionally raised his head and spoke weakly, 
but no one had time to give him any further 
attention. I noticed after a little that the 
palor of death had spread over his face. " Then 



BATTLE OF NEW HOPE CHURCH 1 67 

he settled lower and lower, and finally sank 
on the ground ; there was a gurgling sound, 
followed by a convulsive motion of the limbs, 
which lasted a few moments and then ceased. 

These are some of the minor incidents con- 
nected with a battle, and from their very 
commonness passed almost unnoticed in the 
great procession of events. But they are 
samples of thousands of experiences that fall 
to the lot of attendants in field hospitals, and 
may serve to illustrate the shaded back- 
ground to the brilliant feats of arms which 
the front of battle affords. 

Even in this carnival of tragedy something 
humorous or droll would sometimes happen 
to relieve the monotony of suffering. There 
was one young fellow whose face showed a 
bullet hole not far from the nose, ' but no 
place of exit could be found and it was con- 
cluded that the bullet must have remained 
somewhere within, but we could not guess 
where. While sitting there he was seized 
with a violent fit of coughing, and presently 
coughed the bullet out of his throat, catching 
it in his hand as it fell. Winking at the 
nurse he quietly slipped it in his pocket, re- 
marking as he did so, ** I guess I '11 save that 
as a souvenir." 



l68 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

This army of a hundred thousand men (and 
no one knows how many horses and mules) 
had to be supphed with food and ammunition 
over a single-tracked railroad from Nashville. 
This road the enemy destroyed as they re- 
treated and our army rebuilt as they ad- 
vanced; hence there was often delay in 
getting transportation to the North for the 
wounded. The railroad had now been re- 
built to Kingston, thirty miles in our rear, 
and day after day the ambulances received 
their loads of suffering humanity to carry 
them back to this point, where they were 
loaded on the cars to be sent North. At the 
end of a week they were able to take the last 
of the wounded who were still living, and I 
was one of the number detailed to take care 
of thenl on the way. 

The enemy had finally been routed from 
about Dallas, and the field hospital at that 
place was broken up. As we left the now 
nearly deserted woods, almost the last sight 
that met my eyes was the abandoned sur- 
geons' quarters, and near at hand a consider- 
able pile of legs and arms that their rightful 
owners never saw again. 





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CHAPTER XVI 

FROM FIELD TO HOSPITAL 

With the Ambulances — Caring for the Wounded on the 
Way — Hardships for the Sick — Temporary Stop- 
ping-Place Becomes an All-Summer's Hospital. 

THIS ending of the operations about Dal- 
las marked a distinct change in my ser- 
vice. I expected to be absent from the 
regiment but two days at the most, but by 
the fortunes of war I did not see it again for 
three months, — not until after the capture of 
Atlanta. 

The ambulances with Sherman's army were 
plain, two-horse spring wagons, having can- 
vas tops to protect the inmates from sun and 
rain. The driver was perched on a seat in 
front, but the interior was entered from the 
rear. Along each side ran a seat the whole 
length, on which the patients could sit, and 
arranged in this way it would accommodate 
169 



I/O AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

eight or more of those who had not been 
wounded in such a way as to make it im- 
perative that they should he down in being 
carried. It might at first be thought that 
the loss of a hand or arm would not prevent 
a man from walking a limited distance, as 
long as his legs were not injured. But the 
loss of blood, the pain and nervous shock 
attending it all, make the patient too weak 
to walk much, and should it be attempted it 
would prove fatal in a majority of cases. 

But for those severe cases in which it was 
necessary that the patients should be carried 
in a horizontal position, there was an arrange- 
ment by which the whole interior was made 
into one plain surface on which the patients 
could lie. Fixed in this way, two, or even 
three, could be accommodated, though the 
latter number made them packed too close 
for comfort. 

On the outer side of each vehicle hung a 
stretcher. The army stretcher was a very 
simple but useful contrivance. It was com- 
posed of two strong side-pieces, and these 
were connected at a suitable distance apart 
by cross-pieces, the intervening space being 
covered with canvas. The side-pieces were 
long enough so that the ends could be used 



FROM FIELD TO HOSPITAL I/I 

as handles, and two men could thus carry a 
helpless patient very well. 

There was a guard of armed men who ac- 
companied us too, for even in the rear of our 
army, in the country we had just passed over, 
there was liable at any time to be wandering 
bands of the enemy's scouts and cavalry, 
looking for a chance to surprise and capture 
stores. 

I think a large proportion of this last lot of 
patients were those most severely wounded, 
for of those who came under my care very 
few could get into the ambulances alone. 
With much tugging and lifting we got them 
in as well as we could, though there were 
many groans and now and then an involun- 
tary scream of pain. The forenoon was well 
advanced when all was ready and the long 
line of ambulances started up the road. 

For the wounded men this long ride over 
roads which the passage of two armies had 
left in a terribly rough condition was one 
prolonged torture which made the heart ache. 
It was intensified, too, by the dust and sultry 
heat, and the odor of festering wounds at- 
tracted swarms of flies, so that before night 
the wounds became infested by maggots. 

There have been reckless statements to the 



172 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

effect that army surgeons were hasty and un- 
feeling in their treatment of wounded men, 
but I am sure such statements are without 
foundation. Depraved, indeed, must be the 
person, professional or layman, who could be 
rough or unfeeling to such patients. As far 
as my experience went I never saw them 
give any but the most kindly, considerate, and 
careful attention to those under their charge. 

We filled our canteens at every stream, for 
every time the ambulances halted for a few 
moments every man wanted water to drink. 
We wet cloths and laid on fevered brows, and 
poured water on the dressings covering the 
wounds. "Water, more water," was the 
constant call. The doctors went from one 
ambulance to another along the line, giving 
such relief as they could, sometimes an opiate 
to relieve extreme pain, and sometimes a 
little whisky to prop up the sinking vitality. 

The dinner halt was a short one and we did 
not attempt to take the patients out, but has- 
tily building a fire made some coffee, and gave 
them coffee and crackers where they were. 
This and the brief rest seemed to give them 
some relief, and we soon started on again. 
It was not until after dark that we finally 
halted at a plantation house, with its sur- 



FROM FIELD TO HOSPITAL 1 73 

rounding group of outbuildings, for the 
night, and now we laboriously lifted out our 
charges and did what we could to make them 
comfortable. 

We grouped them about the fires on the 
lawn, and where there were not blankets 
enough two could be laid close together and 
one blanket made to cover them both. Then 
we prepared a supper for them and for our- 
selves of fried pork, with coffee and hard- 
tack. The guard put out their pickets about 
the camp, and when all was done that could 
be done I crept under a shed, and, softly lay- 
ing my head on a little pile of cotton, thought 
how pleasant it was to rest, when just then 
(so it seemed) there was a long, shrill blast of 
the bugle. 

''There must be a night attack," was my 
first thought. I sprang to my feet and ran 
to the picket reserve, who were sitting about 
a fire some little distance away and looking 
strangely unconcerned. 

''What call is that?" I asked. 

" Reveille," replied the sergeant, looking up 
as if he thought I must be a recruit who 
didn't know the "calls." The long-drawn 
notes did have a familiar sound. But reveille 
in the evening! I reflected a moment. 



174 ^^ SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

''What time is it?" 

''Three o'clock." 

I had slept several hours without knowing 
that I had been asleep. . We were called thus 
early to complete the journey in the cool of 
the day. We arrived at Kingston without 
accident, and here a surprise awaited us. A 
raiding party of the enemy's cavalry had cut 
the railroad and there was no communication 
with the North. The ambulances, however, 
must return to the army, and we must do 
something with our patients. So we took 
possession of some great barn-like buildings 
that had been erected in a piece of woods, — 
for Confederate hospitals it was said, — and 
carrying in our wounded we laid them in two 
long rows on the floor of each building, some 
with a blanket and some with nothing to 
soften the planks. 

Of those who had been cared for by myself 
and the two drummer boys that assisted me, 
not one had died on the way, though there 
were deaths in some of the other ambulances. 

Now the surgeons and all had plenty of 
work to do. The medical stores and food 
supplies — such as they had in this unexpected 
turn of affairs — had to be got out and carried 
into the buildings, and the necessary things 



FROM FIELD TO HOSPITAL 1 75 

for the immediate relief of the patients must 
be opened and got ready. Then we made 
haste to attend to the wounds, for the mag- 
gots, which had got into them on the day be- 
fore, had been gnawing, gnawing the flesh all 
night. In most cases it was necessary after 
removing the dressings to also cut the 
stitches and again open the gaping space 
which had been closed up after an amputa- 
tion or other operation ; and even then, in the 
case of deep wounds, we were not sure of get- 
ting them all out, and would have to pour 
liquid into the place from a bottle labelled 
" whisky and chloroform." This would bring 
them wriggling out, ''on a canter," as one of 
the boys said, but the sensation to the patient 
was about the same as it would have been 
had we poured boiling water in the wound. 

It must be remembered that this was be- 
fore the days of antiseptics, which prove such 
a perfect barrier at the present time against 
not only maggots, but also against invisible 
disease germs of all kinds that made such 
havoc with the wounded in the Civil War. 

Night came again all too soon, for we were 
without candles, and what was done must be 
done while the day lasted. My drummer 
boys had gone back with the ambulances, and 



176 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

Dr. Connelly said there was no one to watch 
in Ward 4 but myself. So I prepared for the 
night by filling at the spring what canteens 
I could find among the men, and supplying 
myself with matches. If any one called me 
in the night I could find him by striking a 
match, and it was not likely that I could do 
anything but get water for drinking or for 
wetting the fevered wounds. But where 
should I stay during the tedious hours ? 

The long, silent room was already losing its 
boundaries in the gathering darkness, and 
there was not a single article of furniture; 
only the floor and the four walls rising twenty 
feet to the roof. I could lie on the floor, but 
I knew that if I did so I should instantly drop 
asleep. I could keep awake by walking the 
floor, but that would disturb the sick. Here 
I have it ! I found, out-of-doors, a small box, 
and placing it in the middle of the room, 
seated myself bolt upright upon it, sure now 
that I could rest my feet and still keep 
awake. 

As the last gleams of daylight disappeared 
the room became blank darkness, and not a 
sound could be heard except the heavy 
breathing of the men. Hark! Was that a 
distant gun on the picket line? No, one of 



FROM FIELD TO HOSPITAL 1 77 

the men had moved and something had 
dropped to the floor. All was silent out-of- 
doors, and I must have been dozing. Where 
were the ambulances by this time? Had 
they reached the army yet ? I had been 
placed under the surgeon's orders and had 
obeyed them in remaining, but what would 
Colonel Ketcham say when he learned that I 
had not returned? Would he — there was a 
pain in my head, and putting my hand to my 
ear I found it wet with blood. I was lying at 
full length on the floor. 

" Got to sleep and fell off, did n't ye? " said 
a kindly voice near. '' It 's tu bad ; ye better 
lay down here and I '11 wake ye up if anybody 
wants ye." 

Bless his generous heart ! After all he had 
suffered and was suffering, and then to think 
that he had compassion to spare for a sleepy 
boy! But I was on my mettle now. I was 
determined that I would keep awake for the 
remainder of the night, and I did. But from 
darkness to daylight not one of my patients 
called for anything. The long ride had made 
them crave for rest more than for anything 
else. 

That which was intended as a temporary 
stopping-place became thenceforth an all- 



1/8 AS SEE AT FROM THE RANKS 

summer's hospital, designated in army phrase 
as a "receiving hospital." In due time we 
received supplies of all kinds and — crowning 
glory of all ! — there came a woman who took 
charge of the special diet. During the 
summer we were continually receiving fresh 
wounded from the front, and sending those 
that had become more comfortable to the 
North. 

Whatever experience at the front I may 
have missed was — partially, at least — com- 
pensated for by my experience in several 
field hospitals, as well as in this receiving 
hospital, and such experience cannot fail of 
having a value and interest. For one thing, 
it is a pleasanter thought in the declining 
years, that of having relieved pain, instead 
of the other thought, that of having caused 
pain and death. In saying this I do not for 
a moment overlook the fact that we were but 
seconding the efforts of those at the front, 
and were as much responsible as they for the 
legitimate acts of the war. Still, in the long 
after-years, the thought of having relieved 
pain is pleasanter than the thought of hav- 
ing inflicted it. 

This was before the days of trained nurses, 
even for the wealthy at home, and the army 



FROM FIELD TO HOSPITAL 1 79 

was obliged to make shift and use such ma- 
terial as it could succeed in getting from the 
ranks. To become accustoms ^ to hospital 
scenes is sometimes an experi .nee in itself. 
I well remember my first sight of an opera- 
tion, which was at Gettysburg. A thigh am- 
putation was in process at the time, and at 
first sight of the quivering, severed muscles, 
and the bone laid bare for the saw, there 
swept over me such a sudden impulse to turn 
and leave the place that only by an effort of 
the will did I remain at my post. But from 
that time, save for the universal pity we all 
have for those who suffer, the sight of or par- 
ticipation in operations did not affect my 
nerves or give me any discomfort. 

Without technical knowledge I yet ac- 
quired a certain readiness in assisting in the 
ordinary details of surgery which must have 
been somewhat appreciated by the surgeons, 
for I was generally required to assist when 
such work was to be done. But for that 
matter there was so much to be done that 
they were obliged to make use of a great deal 
of unskilled labor. I have probably assisted 
at more surgical operations than the ordinary 
surgeon sees in a lifetime. 




CHAPTER XVII 

HOSPITAL EXPERIENCES 

Peculiarities of the Patients — One who Lost Half his 
Blood and All his Conceit — Gratitude of the 
Wounded — High Rate of Mortality — Theory and 
Practice in Medicine — Confederate Patients. 

THIS hospital at Kingston, Ga., though 
estabHshed by accident as it were, be- 
came a valuable adjunct to the army, and, as 
its supplies came forward and the details were 
perfected, we settled into a routine of daily 
life. Gradually its capacity was increased by 
the erection of a number of very large tents, 
and it is probable that there were, at one 
time, nearly or quite a thousand wounded 
men there. 

The ward for the care of which I was re- 
sponsible had forty cots for patients, and I 
soon had charge of the medicines and surgical 
dressings of forty cripples. There is a good 
1 80 



HOSPITAL EXPERIENCES l8l 

4eal of human nature everywhere in the 
world, but nowhere is it found more manifest 
than in a hospital, where all are helpless and 
dependent. Under incompetent manage- 
ment they become a tyrannical family of 
spoiled children, while under wise supervision 
they readily follow directions and hold to a 
degree of order and cheerfulness which is 
worth more in its general effects than the 
doctor's medicines. 

The Ward Master who was kind, cheerful, 
and just to all, and at the same time filled the 
room with a prevailing spirit of good cheer 
and fraternal feeling, was the one of value, 
however little he might know of nursing. 
The ward that had beside this a few good 
story-tellers, or those of a witty and humor- 
ous turn among the nurses and patients, was 
indeed blessed. 

There were always a few selfish patients, 
seemingly entirely devoid of generous or 
moral impulses, and they were not usually 
of the most severely injured either. They 
were utterly regardless of the comfort of 
others and eager to be served first and best, 
whether the service was of food or attention. 
It sometimes required firmness and care to 
get along with such moral monstrosities; 



1 82 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

firmness to resist their bullying demands, 
and care to prevent being outwitted by their 
cunning deceptions. 

I remember one instance in which I was 
finally obliged to quietly bring the aggressor 
face to face with the ultimatum of physical 
force, and then his collapse from cowardly 
bravado was so sudden that it was ludicrous, 
and a wholesome ripple of laughter went 
around the room. 

There was another class of patients who 
were as much in the minority as those just 
mentioned. Among so many there were sure 
to be a few whose conceit was proof against 
reasoning and advice, and they earned the 
sobriquet of ''Knowing Ones." There was 
one patient brought to our ward who was so 
striking an instance of this class that he 
may fairly be taken as a type. Aside from 
this trait, though, he was a first-rate fellow, 
warm-hearted and impulsive, and generous to 
a fault. He had been crippled by a bullet 
which had passed through his leg in some 
mysterious course, entering below the knee 
and coming out on the other side down near 
the ankle. 

He was repeatedly warned by the surgeon 
to remain in bed in a horizontal position, as 



HOSPITAL EXPERIENCES 1 83 

the wound was liable to bfeak out bleeding at 
any time. But he was not of the kind who 
are fond of accepting statements on faith, 
and one day, not long after his arrival, he 
"guessed" that he knew "as much about 
that wound as the doctor" did. So he tried 
sitting up on the cot ; then put his feet to the 
floor, — rather timidly at first, but finding no 
discomfort, finally limped about the room, 
in defiance of my protests and with great 
delight in his own independence. 

On the night following, soon after mid- 
night, I was suddenly called by the night 
nurse. Springing to my feet I ran to the 
Knowing One's cot to find it being saturated 
with his blood at a rate that would have cost 
his life in a few minutes more. I made a 
rush for bandage and compresses, which were 
always on my table, and in a short time had 
stopped the life stream. The next day there 
was a council of surgeons, an operation last- 
ing two hours, and a very sick patient who 
had lost half his blood and all his conceit. 
But as he was steadily improving when he 
was sent North a few weeks later, it is prob- 
able that in time both were restored to their 
normal condition of surplus. 

But over against the selfish, the knowing, 



1 84 ^^ SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

the rebellious, and the worrying ones, there 
was the plain and manly remainder, always 
greatly in the majority, who were reasonable 
in their expectations, and so very apprecia- 
tive of the service we were rendering as our 
daily duty, and which surely none could have 
withheld, even without that incentive. Nor 
were they slow to express their appreciation. 
Richer than any may know were the rewards 
of this kind that came to me, not only then, 
but months and even years after, when some 
chance meeting of an acquaintance with one 
of my former patients would bring me a 
message which would show how gratefully 
we were still remembered. 

It was some months after that, when on 
our march to the sea, that my tent-mate, 
Frank Green, came straggling into camp one 
night a little late. He had been away from 
the regiment, foraging on his own account, 
that day. Almost the first words he said 
were, "Do you remember Willson, of the — 
Ohio?" 

" Yes, I took care of him in Kingston; but 
what do you know about him ? ' ' 

Then he told me of his experience. Re- 
turning from his foraging expedition he had 
fallen in with a member of an Ohio regiment 



HOSPITAL EXPERIENCES I 85 

which was in another division, and he proved 
to be one of my patients. Learning what 
regiment Frank belonged to he suddenly ex- 
claimed, " Do you know Charlie Benton? He 
belonged in that regiment." 

''Yes," said Frank, ''I tent with him." 

*'How is Charlie ? " was the next question. 

''Charlie's doing well," replied Frank, 
somewhat amused by the lively interest dis- 
played by his new acquaintance. 

" I hope he will always do well. Give him 
my 'best,' will you? I shouldn't be alive 
to-day if he had n't taken care of me." 

With this hearty remembrance they parted, 
and the message was surely more than com- 
pensation for all that I ever did for him, for it 
showed that my efforts had been appreciated 
at least. 

The circumstance recalled an incident of 
Willson's stay at the Kingston hospital. He 
was wounded in the thick part of the thigh, 
and the minie ball, as large as the end of 
one's thumb, was still in there. Soon after 
his arrival the surgeons concluded to look for 
that bullet. He was put to sleep in the 
usual way by the use of chloroform, and the 
operation, though pretty long, was finally 
successful. As he was coming out from 



1 86 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

under the influence of the ansesthetic, but 
while his eyes were still closed, he began to 
talk, like one talking in his sleep. His re- 
marks were mostly about the doctors who 
were present, and as they were witty and 
sarcastic, and one after another came in for 
his share of the cuts, every one in the ward 
roared with laughter, and the doctors them- 
selves had to join in it. 

Finally one of them gave him a little 
whisky to rouse him to full consciousness. 
After a time he opened his eyes slowly, and, 
looking steadfastly a moment at the surgeon 
who was bending over him, solemnly said, 
''We've had a great drunk, haven't we, 
doctor? " It was a long time before he could 
understand what we were laughing at. He 
gained rapidly after that day, and I think the 
incident materially improved the general 
health of the ward. 

Deaths were frequent, as may be supposed, 
for, as I have said, none of the modern appli- 
ances for the protection of surgical operations 
from disease germs were then known to sci- 
ence, and the dead were buried daily without 
ceremony. 

Nor was the theory and practice of medi- 
cine always the same with different doctors. 



HOSPITAL EXPERIENCES 1 8/ 

There was one — a German doctor — who had 
great faith in whisky. If our prohibition 
friends could have access to the prescription 
books of that hospital I have no doubt they 
would find therein a strong argument for 
their cause. The hospital steward, who put 
up all the prescriptions, told me in conversa- 
tion on the subject that that doctor's book 
was "full of gravestones," referring to the 
entry of death opposite the patient's name in 
the prescription book. 

The wards of our hospital were like the 
ranks of the army, in that they included all 
grades of life, — the rich and the poor, the 
ignorant and the cultivated, — for it was a 
war that laid such strong hold upon feeling 
and sentiment that social considerations were 
sunk for the time being. There were many 
who did not see why education or wealth, 
which happened to be theirs, should debar 
them from carrying a rifle in the ranks — ''for 
the cause." The native Americans who 
could not read were scarcer with us than col- 
lege men. 

Among other kinds of patients we had at 
one time a few prisoners who were too se- 
verely wounded to be placed in the prison 
with the others. They were our enemies, but 



1 88 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

now they were crippled and helpless, and to 
the honor of our boys be it recorded that not 
once during their stay among our patients 
were they addressed in any language but that 
of kindness. There seemed to be, instead, a 
certain chivalrous feeling, hardly to have 
been expected when all the circumstances 
were taken into account, which forbade in- 
sult to a fallen foe. Most of them were quite 
non-communicative, but one was very free to 
express his surprise and gratitude at the 
treatment they received. 

I learned that none of them could read or 
write, but it must not be supposed that this 
lack of knowledge of books indicated a 
corresponding degradation or inferior intel- 
ligence, as it would at the North. The con- 
ditions prevailing in the South lowered the 
public -school system, and it was in some 
localities impossible for the children of even 
well-to-do families to have any teaching 
whatever unless a private teacher was em- 
ployed. One of our unlettered Southerners 
especially seemed to be a gentleman, in the 
best meaning of the word, but he died before 
I had an opportunity to get acquainted with 
him. 



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CHAPTER XVIII 

HOSPITAL EXPERIENCES (CONTINUED) 

A Day's Duties — Curious Wounds — A Cheerful Patient 
— Commonness of Death — Walt Whitman's Hos- 
pital Pictures — A Berrying Excursion — Murders 
by Guerillas — Return to the Regiment. 

LET the reader accompany me through the 
round of a day of hospital duties. Our 
ward held forty patients, and there were, 
beside myself, upon whom all vocations were 
apt to fall by turns, two nurses, one or both 
of whom were on duty at all hours, day and 
night. If the one on duty during the night 
needed assistance I was called, and it some- 
times happened that a critical case demanded 
my, care all night. But I usually arose at 
daylight and began preparing my family for 
breakfast. Water was brought from a spring 
a short distance away, and with basins and 
towels we made the rounds. 
189 



IQO AS SEE AT FROM THE RANKS 

It frequently happened that a cot held the 
silent form of one who, in the slow ebbing of 
vitality, had entered the night with insuffi- 
cient to tide him over the fatal hours from 
I to 3 A.M. The blanket had been drawn 
up over the face, and as soon as possible the 
burial squad would call to carry the remains 
away, for with human nature just as it is, the 
presence of a corpse among patients is not an 
inspiring source of cheerfulness. 

When all were ready, the nurses went to 
the kitchen, a shed building some distance 
away, for the breakfast. The food, as I re- 
member it, was not what would now be called 
hospital fare. It was principally hard-tack 
and salt meat, with coffee and a little sugar, 
and sometimes rice or beans were added for 
variety. Special diet, for severe cases, had a 
few added delicacies from the stores of the 
Sanitary Commission : condensed milk and a 
few vegetables and pickles, — the latter being 
especially in demand just then, for scurvy 
had gotten a strong foothold already and' 
was making its dreaded presence felt, and 
pickles were its quickest and surest anti- 
dote. I have seen raw potatoes and onions 
packed in vinegar as eagerly sought and 
devoured by the men in the ranks of the 



HOSPITAL EXPERIENCES I9I 

army as are chocolate drops by a group of 
schoolgirls. 

Just at this time, and later, the Sanitary 
and Christian Commissions had great diffi- 
culty in getting transportation to Sherman's 
army for any of their stores. The railroad 
was burdened to supply the army with neces- 
sities and had small room for luxuries. 

After breakfast was finished each patient's 
cup was washed and hung on the wall over 
his head, the tin plates were returned to the 
kitchen, and we then bestirred ourselves to 
put the room in order for the day. I then 
began my special labor of dressing the 
wounds, having packages of lint, bandages, 
etc., water and towels, and a great sheet of 
adhesive plaster hanging on the wall to cut 
strips from as they were needed. If there 
was a difficult case it was left until the 
surgeon came in, which would be during the 
forenoon. This work was usually finished 
before dinner time. 

After dinner the report was made out for 
the day, and the prescription book was taken 
to the dispensary, where the prescriptions 
were filled. There was occasionally a little 
time then to write letters, and sometimes to 
write letters for the sick, and before night 



192 AS SEE AT FROM THE RANKS 

some of the most severe wounds would need 
a second dressing. But there were often 
surgical operations to be attended to, or a 
number must be got away to the North and 
a fresh lot of wounded from the front were to 
be installed in their places. 

So between the regular duties and the occa- 
sional and extra duties we were usually kept 
pretty busy until dark. Then a single tallow 
candle was lighted in one corner of the long 
building, and as it scarce penetrated the 
gloom at all, silence would soon prevail and 
sleep for those to whom it was not denied. 

Of the curiosities among wounds there was 
one patient who had been hit by a minie 
ball that had entered back of his right ear 
and found exit just under the left eye, mak- 
ing a hole as large as one's finger. Yet the 
man, when he left us, seemed to be in a way 
to fully recover. 

Probabty it would puzzle even an expert to 
guess what position a man could be in to get 
hit seven times by one bullet. That, how- 
ever, is what had happened to one whom I 
cared for, and the way he explained it was 
this: he had raised his rifle to fire when a 
bullet from the enemy hit one wrist, all four 
fingers of the other hand, cut a notch in 



HOSPITAL EXPERIENCES 193 

his chin (as his head was bent forward), and 
lodged in his breast, where it remained. As 
it had not been extracted when he left us, the 
outcome seemed to be in doubt. 

There was a jolly, broad-shouldered Ger- 
man, whose cheerfulness was unfailing, 
though he had lost both his legs by a shell 
which had burst between his feet. His morn- 
ing joke and rippling laughter echoing down 
the great building was a benediction of life 
and health-giving to the wan faces. During 
his whole stay he avowed his intention to 
begin with me the study of German just as 
soon as I could spare an hour a day for the 
purpose. That was also probably one of his 
jokes, for, as he w^ell knew would be the case, 
the spare hour never materialized, and, 
though he made a great pretence every day 
of opening his school w4th one pupil, we 
never got beyond the morning salutation and 
a few phrases. 

Among them all there was one who, per- 
haps, attracted me the most strongly, not 
only on account of the severity of his wound, 
but also by his 3^outh and purity. He was 
a beardless boy, with flaxen hair and sky- 
blue eyes, and a bullet had made an ugly 

hole through the thick part of his thigh, 
13 



194 ^-^ SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

dangerously near the large artery. The doc- 
tor said it should heal readily, but as day by 
day it gave indications of growing larger in- 
stead, he looked grave and made no com- 
ments. One morning, as I was dressing it, 
there floated out with the discharge a piece 
of blue cloth. Here, then, was the secret of 
its failing to heal; the bullet had torn and 
dragged into the tissue a piece of the cloth- 
ing and had left it there. 

From that time the thin cheeks, whose 
fairness had become marble-like in its white- 
ness, began to recover a little tinge of color, 
and when a few weeks later I carried him out 
to the ambulance, and then at the depot took 
him from the ambulance in my arms, and, 
carrying him into the car, laid him in the 
berth to begin his journey to the North, he 
had a good prospect of recovery. His arms 
clung about my neck and seemed reluctant to 
unwind, even after he was laid in his berth, 
and when I finally bade him good-by, I con- 
fess there was a tug at my heart-strings as 
the azure eyes looked up, suspiciously moist. 

How easy it would have been to have pre- 
served his home address, and that of hun- 
dreds of others as w^ell, and how often I have 
since wished that I had done so ; and it seems 



HOSPITAL EXPERIENCES 1 95 

strange now that I did not. But life in the 
army in war time takes no thought for 
the morrow. That element of planning for 
the future, which fills so large a space in our 
home life, found little encouragement there. 
''After the war" we were accustomed to look 
forward to as a tangible certainty which 
must sometime come, but its apparent re- 
moteness gave a kind of intangibleness to the 
thought after all, for the specific date no 
one attempted to fix even approximately. It 
would be soon enough to plan for that time 
when it should come. 

For the present we lived in the *'now," 
each one vaguely conscious that he was a cog 
in a vast machine whose movements he could 
not fully know, and in the direction of which 
he took no part. This feeling was probably 
intensified by the commonness of death. At 
home, no matter how watchful we may be, 
death always brings with it some element of 
surprise, but never in the army; there it is 
always expected and is always happening. 

As 1 write of these events scenes and faces 
rise before me with a vividness that stimu- 
lates my pen, and I must hold it in check or 
the reader's patience will be exhausted. In 
after years, when I read Walt Whitman's 



196 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

account of his experiences in army hospitals, 
these memory-pictures gave me the feehng 
that I could understand at least one phase 
of his character, that best revealed in his own 
unmetred lines : 

" I sit by the restless all the dark night ; some are 

so young, 
Some suffer so much: I recall the experience 

sweet and sad. 
Many a soldier's loving arms about this neck 

have crossed and rested, 
Many a soldier's kiss dwells on these bearded 

lips." 

Dear old Walt! He was much belabored 
because he would write as he would. Yet all 
his roughness was in his pen, for personally he 
was the gentlest and kindest of men, and at 
work in and about army hospitals he was at 
his best and in his element of usefulness. It 
was here, too, that he received that close 
touch of humanity so dear to his heart, while, 
in their turn, it is said the wounded and sick 
soldiers became much attached to him. 

There was not lacking evidence that we 
were surrounded by enemies, even though in 
the rear of our own army. We were in a 
country where nearly every white resident, 



HOSPITAL EXPERIENCES 1 97 

male or female, was an enemy and ready to 
act as one, either as "bushwhacker" or spy, 
as opportunity might offer. There were also 
raiding bands of Confederate cavalry con- 
stantly looking for opportunities to capture 
supplies or destroy railroad bridges, and 
otherwise hamper and interrupt the supply 
of our army in front. I doubt if they would 
have cared to capture a thousand or more 
cripples; that would have been a bootless 
victory, but perhaps they would have taken 
some chances in hopes of capturing the large 
store of medicine and surgeon's equipments 
that must have been here. Some arms were 
kept on hand, and when the scouts brought 
an alarm every one who could move about 
was expected to be ready to assist in defence. 
I obtained leave of absence one day to 
go huckleberrying. I was careful to take a 
rifle, and keep clear of the houses and roads, 
and probably went two miles into the country. 
Once I heard voices approaching, and lying 
down in the bushes remained concealed until 
they had passed. Berries were plentiful, and 
the afternoon outing made a pleasant change 
for me, as well as for my patients, to whom 
I brought the berries ; yet it was really not 
worth the risk, for a few of the men who 



198 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

went out the next day were fired upon from 
ambush and two of their number killed. 
The ambulance went out with a guard after- 
ward and brought in the bodies. As there 
was not known to be any Confederate force 
in the vicinity at the time, they were prob- 
ably assassinated by residents. 

During the three months of my stay at 
Kingston our comrades at the front were 
passing through the various battles that 
finally resulted in the capture of Atlanta, 
and when, on September 2d, that city fell 
into Sherman's hands, orders soon came to 
break up our hospital. Carefully carrying 
our helpless ones into the cars we found pro- 
vided, we saw them speed away to the North. 
Then after a little waiting we boarded a 
south-bound train to report to our various 
regiments. 

It seems singular, but of the hundreds of 
men that I knew first and last at Kingston 
hospital, surgeons, nurses, and patients, to 
the best of my recollection I have never met 
one of them since, either in the army or out 
of it, though I have several times received 
messages of good cheer through friends and 
acquaintances who had met some of them. 



CHAPTER XIX 

ATLANTA 

Sketch of City Mansion — Death of a Member of the 
Band — Mystery and Adventure of his Life — A 
Foraging Tour — Voting for President — Amuse- 
ments of an Army — Amateur Theatrical Company. 

AS was the case with the immortal Tommy, 
Frank Green and ** Art for Art's sake" 
were out looking for each other one day. 
Frank was armed with pencil and a sheet of 
unruled writing paper, and the result of their 
encounter is a rather amateurish sketch now 
hanging in my study, which I value at a 
higher price than any picture dealer would 
be willing to pay for it. The artist has long 
since gone to his reward, and the sketch per- 
haps belongs to that class sometimes adver- 
tised as " of no use to any one but the owner." 
Yet in this case the value to the owner is not 
small, chiefly on account of its associations, 
for Frank was my tent-mate. 
199 



200 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

The sketch is of an elegant stone mansion 
in the city of Atlanta, and as it stood just in- 
side the city's defences the shells of Sherman's 
artillery had torn it through and through. 
There seemed to have been some reason for 
the treatment it had received, for in the siege 
of the city this large house, with its thick 
walls of stone, had formed a lurking-place 
for the enemy's sharpshooters from which 
to pick off our men. Therefore it had be- 
come necessary to dislodge them in this 
effective manner. I recollect, however, that 
it had a pleasant aspect to me, for here I 
found my messmates. The number of the 
band had been reduced by the absence of 
some on account of sickness, and of one mem- 
ber, John Simmons, who had been wounded 
and sent back to a hospital in Chattanooga, 
where he finally died of his wound. 

This Simmons was something of a character 
in his way, and deserves more than passing 
mention. As we mingled so much, there 
came in time to each of us some nickname. 
That for John did not arrive until we came to 
Tennessee, and had done what all Northern 
boys do during their first autumn in the 
South — tasted green persimmons. The re- 
semblance of the name, and his own pecu- 



A TLANTA 201 

Harly acrid disposition, made the result a 
foregone conclusion, and he was known from 
that time as " P^r-Simmons." But, as might 
have been expected, this did not sweeten his 
temper at all, and he remained the same. 

Yet there was much more to the gray- 
haired man of Napoleonic features than this 
aggravating and combative personality which 
never tired of holding up to scorn and con- 
tempt what, with the keenest of satire, he 
termed **T'e A-/;z^r-ican soldier, who talks 
United States!" The sarcastic reference to 
a boastful nation which is without even a 
national language was only one of the many 
thrusts of his rapier-like wit, which none of 
us were quite nimble enough to parry. He 
rarely more than tasted of spirits, but one 
day he had taken enough to break down his 
habitual reserve in regard to his own history, 
and he told me the story of his life. 

He was born in Normandy, France, and I 
judged from various things he told me in 
connection with his family that they were 
of good means and position. He attended a 
German university, and while there became 
involved in some affair that ended in a duel. 
Opening his clothing he showed me the long 
sword-scar on his breast, which indicated 



202 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

that the matter was something more than the 
fiasco that such affairs at German universities 
usually are. The duel had resulted in a break 
with his family, and after various adventures 
he had finally drifted into the French army. 
Eventually he enlisted in our regular army 
as a musician, where he served a long term of 
years ; for lack of something better to do, I 
judge, for his education was not complete 
and thorough enough to be worth much as a 
breadwinner. 

When he joined us in Baltimore he was 
about forty-five years of age, and his com- 
parative failure in life, notwithstanding un- 
doubted natural talents, easily accounted 
for the pessimistic sharpness of his tongue. 
There is nothing like confidence to win 
friendship, and from that time there was a 
bond between us that he did not have with 
the other boys, for I readily discovered that 
underneath all the sharpness of language 
there was a fund of generosity only lacking 
opportunity for development. I was very 
sorry that he had not fallen to my care when 
he was wounded. 

We learned afterward of his experience at 
the hospital. He was told that it would be 
necessary to amputate his leg in order to 



A TLANTA 203 

save his life. But life had already proved 
a disappointment, and this offer of being 
passed on into old age, a cripple dependent 
on charity, was rejected with impatience; 
and, as he was permitted to make his choice, 
he died a few weeks later. 

Despite all the asperity of his tongue, the 
memory of his friendship abides with me 
still ; but I doubt whether his real name was 
Simmons. 

Soon after our arrival in Atlanta, Hood, 
who now commanded the enemy's forces in 
that vicinity, did the only thing he could 
have done to make it possible for Sherman to 
crown his campaign with completest success. 
With his whole army he started northward 
on a raid of his own, followed by three 
quarters of Sherman's army, but leaving to 
our corps the not unpleasant duty of occupy- 
ing the city. But when Hood had gone well 
away from us, Sherman sent a portion of his 
troops to assist Thomas at Nashville, and 
returning with the remainder to Atlanta 
prepared for his most famous campaign. 

I may as well add here that Hood con- 
tinued his northward course until he actually 
laid siege to Nashville, where in due time he 
was effectually ''dealt with" by Thomas and 



204 ^S SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

from that time to the close of the war Hood's 
army was heard of no more. 

It is said that in a cyclone there is a space 
of quiet and calm in the centre, and similarly 
our position was now central in the cyclone 
of war. The navy was pounding the enemy 
along the coast and up the rivers, where foot- 
holds had been obtained and enlarged at 
various points, while from Virginia to the 
West the tempest of war was raging north of 
us, but ours was, just for a little time, the 
centre of calm. 

Our stay there, as far as our corps was 
concerned, was uneventful. There were oc- 
casional foraging tours into the surrounding 
country, and sometimes an alarm from the 
approach of a body of cavalry or mounted 
scouts. On one occasion the wagons of our 
division had been sent into the country east- 
ward in search of forage, accompanied only 
by a small guard, entirely inadequate to de- 
fend it from a force of any size whatever. By 
some means a rumor reachedcampthat a force 
of the enemy's cavalry was in the vicinity 
and that our wagon train was endangered. 

Immediately our regiment had orders to 
go to their relief, and we left the city at 4 
P.M., taking the same direction and road that 



A TLANTA 205 

the wagon train had taken. The band was 
ordered to accompany the regiment ; not that 
music was so much needed, for we did not 
blow a note on the whole trip ; but I suspect 
that our other services, which they were liable 
to have need of, were more thought of just 
then than music. 

We marched until ten or eleven o'clock in 
the evening, and only went into camp because 
it was not easy to find and be sure of the road, 
and we were in danger of losing our way. We 
started again before it was fairly light, and 
following the road that the wagons had taken, 
which took a wide circuitous sweep around a 
section of the farming country, kept a furious 
marching pace until some time in the after- 
noon, when we reached Atlanta again. The 
wagons had returned safely from their cir- 
cuit and reached camp just before us, for we 
had almost overtaken them. Since leaving 
camp we had marched over forty miles. 

We heard of battles far to the north on 
ground which we had passed over, but that 
which interested us most was the approaching 
Presidential election. By a special arrange- 
ment it was so managed that each voter was 
permitted to enclose his ballot in an envelope, 
which was sealed and sent home to be opened 



206 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

at the polls where he would have been en- 
titled to vote if he had not been in the army. 

As I had reached my majority since enlist- 
ing, my first vote, which was for Lincoln, was 
cast in Atlanta, but was opened and counted 
in my native town. By that election the 
people decided that the war was not "a fail- 
ure, ' ' and the decision has never been reversed. 

Nothing is more cheerful than a victorious 
army, and while it rested there were many 
who were quick to devise amusements. A 
group of Indians, who had enlisted in one of 
the Western regiments, were persuaded to 
give a war-dance in the evening. The thrill- 
ing Indian stories of my boyhood's literature 
were still fresh in my mind, and I expected to 
be thrilled now by the representation of the 
real, and by the real Indians too. But the 
disappointment was as complete as it was 
possible for it to be. 

Was it because the performance was in a 
crowd in the centre of a city, whereas it 
needed the setting of a camp-fire gleaming 
up the towering trunks of forest trees and 
glistening on the bodies of naked savages, 
while the weird song was answered from the 
far solitudes by the panther's cry? Or was 
it that I had been surrounded by scenes so 



A TLANTA 20/ 

much more warlike than any Indian wars 
could furnish ? The death of an ideal is some- 
times painful, but this sudden collapse of my 
ideal of an Indian war-dance touched my 
sense of humor instead, and I enjoyed a laugh 
that lasted far into the night. 

There was a theatre, and this was soon 
taken possession of. Some of the company 
had possibly been connected with theatres 
before, but now they were all stars of the 
first magnitude, though the actresses were 
conspicuous by their absence. "The strong 
man" nightly tossed the cannon balls, catch- 
ing them on the back of his neck, and allowed 
a rock to be broken on his breast by a sledge 
in the hands of "t ' other strong feller," and 
with the help of the soloist, the clog-dancer, 
the impromptu comedy, and the inevitable 
minstrels, the time was filled, and a not over- 
critical audience was delighted. 

At one camp I found a couple of trick 
mules who tossed the unsophisticated who 
could be induced to ride them by the light of 
the camp-fire, while at still another place a 
rude ten-pin alley had been constructed. 
The pins were termed "Rebels," and the 
balls used were some unexploded shells 
which otir artillery had thrown into the city. 



CHAPTER XX 

MARCHING THROUGH GEORGIA 

Evacuation of Atlanta — The City in Flames — The 
March Begun — Stone Mountain — Destroying Rail- 
roads — Immensity of an Army — Refreshing 
Change of Diet — Crowds of Slaves. 

THE country about Atlanta is not moun- 
tainous, though eleven hundred feet 
above the sea, but is of a rolling surface and 
diversified by field and forest. The city 
stands exactly on the divide, where the 
waters flow in one direction to the Atlantic, 
and in the other to the Gulf. It is of even 
more modern growth than Chicago, and owes 
its importance and even existence to the 
concentration of railroads there. The same 
fact gave it also its prominent military im- 
portance, for railroads are as necessary a 
supplement to modern warfare as they are to 
modern commerce. 

208 



MARCHING THROUGH GEORGIA 



209 



Soon after his capture of the city Sher- 
man ordered all the inhabitants to leave at 
once. Those who desired to go North were 
furnished with transportation, and about 
twenty-five hundred availed themselves of 
this offer. The remainder were sent South 
under a flag of truce, and continued to link 
their fortunes with those of the Confederacy. 

Sherman had started from Chattanooga 
with about one hundred thousand men, and 
up to the time of entering Atlanta his losses 
had been about a fifth of that number. Mean- 
time he had received considerable reinforce- 
ments, and in turn had sent back a large 
number to assist Thomas at Nashville. 
There was now a final examination of the 
men, the invalids and weaklings were sorted 
out, and we then had an army of nearly 
seventy thousand men. 

When all the preparations were completed, 
the railroad and the telegraph lines were 
destroyed, and for a month our friends could 
only hear of our whereabouts by stray infor- 
mation from the enemy. When Hood evacu- 
ated the city he destroyed property and 
stores to the extent of many millions of dol- 
lars in value, and now when Sherman evacu- 
ated it he ordered the remaining public 



2IO AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

buildings to be destroyed, for war at the best 
is but a game of destruction. 

It is probable that the flames spread — it 
could not have been otherwise in fact — and 
most of the city was consumed. We then 
started on a tour in which the destruction of 
property was unequalled in the history of 
the war. But it was not done wantonly. It 
was done as a military measure, for war, as 
Sherman forcibly reminded one of the Con- 
federate generals who had undertaken to 
criticise some of his measures — "War is 
cruelty; you cannot refine it." 

And again, writing to Charles A. Dana, he 
said : " To make war we must and will harden 
our hearts." 

The campaign which followed achieved 
such a strategic success that it seems sure of 
posthumous fame in both history and song, 
being known in the former as "Sherman's 
march to the sea," and in the latter as 
Marching throng Georgia. 

On November 15, 1864, we broke camp, 
and turning our faces to the southeast began 
a march to — we did not know where. Little 
did I think when a few years before I looked 
at a picture of burning Moscow, which 
Napoleon said was the grandest sight the 



MARCHING THROUGH GEORGIA 211 

world ever beheld, that I should so soon wit- 
ness a similar one. 

Reaching a little rise of ground at a dis- 
tance from the city we halted for a rest, and 
turning to take a last look I beheld a column 
of black smoke ascending to the sky. Then 
another column of smoke arose, and another, 
and another, until it seemed that they all 
merged together and the whole city was in 
flames. Great beetling towers of smoke rose 
higher and higher ; gigantic tongues of flame 
leaped out here and there, or serpent -like 
seemed to raise their heads and uncoil in the 
smoke; again they would run together and 
form sheets of flame which rose high aloft, 
and breaking sent fiery couriers into the sky. 
The jet black smoke of the southern pine, of 
which the city was mostly built, spread and 
thickened until it covered the sky and made 
the day dark. 

''Forward, march!" and we passed on, 
leaving the "Gate City" behind, a city no 
longer — so it seemed to us then. And yet — 
for Truth is ever outstripping the wildest 
flights of Prophecy — the city was rapidly re- 
built in after-years, and a quarter of a cen- 
tury later the National Grange met there, 
the farmers of the South extending the 



212 AS SEE AT FROM THE RANKS 

fraternal hand of greeting to the farmers 
of the North and West. Verily, we chose 
a good time in which to be born I 

In looking over some old letters I am re- 
minded of so many incidents in connection 
with the campaign which followed, and my 
Imp persists in crowding my brain with so 
many vivid pictures, that I hardly know 
what to select. I will quote a paragraph 
from one of the letters. 

"Our first day's march brought us to Stone 
Mountain, and here our whole brigade went on 
picket for the night. We spent the next day in 
destroying railroads, and so began our second 
day's march after sundown, and finished it in 
time to eat breakfast and begin the third day's 
march." 

Such experiences were not remarkable, but 
they may serve to give the reader a hint of 
how the boys sometimes managed to get so 
tired. 

Stone Mountain is a village which takes its 
name from a remarkable mountain near at 
hand, which is about a thousand feet in 
height, and is seemingly one immense granite 
boulder. Its surface is so smooth that in 
only a few places have trees and bushes found 



MARCHING THROUGH GEORGIA 213 

a foothold, and its sides are so precipitous 
that its summit can be reached from but one 
direction. Standing thus isolated and rising 
to such a height, it forms a very striking 
feature in the landscape. From there to the 
coast there is no other considerable rise of 
ground; in fact, the country grows more low 
and flat as you proceed, until it ends in rice 
plantations at the coast. 

It must be difficult for one who has never 
seen an army, with all its supplies and accom- 
paniments, to form an adequate conception 
of its size and the amount of country it 
covers. I am sure there were large portions 
of Sherman's army which I never saw during 
the year and more that I was with it. It 
was now organized in four infantry corps, 
each corps taking a road by itself, the four 
corps keeping about abreast of each other; 
the cavalry forming an advance guard, push- 
ing out in front and in all directions. I re- 
member that it took our corps about all day 
to pass one point, so not infrequently the 
head of the column would be going into 
camp before the rear had begun the day's 
march. 

As the army was now separated and sev- 
ered from all communication it became neces- 



214 ^^ SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

sary to march it in such order that not only 
the front and flanks, but the rear also, should 
be securely guarded. The accomplishment 
of this resulted in more or less night march- 
ing. There were pontoon bridges to be put 
down in front and taken up again when the 
army had passed over, and then to be got to 
the front again in time for it to cross another 
river. And again, troops which were at the 
front would be thrown out to guard the 
flank, and then bring up the rear. 

I recall that all of one day and the night 
following, there was a terribly heavy rainfall, 
and it seemed to us that the roads would be 
impassable the next day, and we should get 
a day's rest. But the indefatigable "Old 
Tecumseh," as Sherman was nicknamed, had 
seemingly forgotten there was such a word 
as rest. Before morning ten miles of our 
road was corduroyed with rails, and orders 
were issued to the effect that every wagon 
which became hopelessly mired must be 
burned with its contents. "The army must 
move," were the concluding words of the 
order, — and we moved. 

The softened roads caused by that rain 
made much wearisome labor for the troops, 
but it was a sight worth seeing, the energy 



MARCHING THROUGH GEORGIA 21 5 

with which they labored. Sometimes the 
bottom of the road seemed to just fall out all 
at once, and a wagon would suddenly sink so 
deep in the mud that it was utterly beyond 
the power of the six-mule team to draw it 
out. Then a rope of some length would be 
attached, and perhaps two or three hundred 
men would line up on it, while the wagon it- 
self would be surrounded by as many as 
could touch it or reach it with their guns. 
When all was ready the officer in charge 
would give the word. Then the driver 
would slash his whip and pour forth a strange 
profanity (for mule drivers were noted for 
their picturesque use of the language), and 
all would strain and shout. 

Look! the wagon sways, it moves, the 
wheels bringing up great masses of mud; 
the mules are straining in the harness, every 
one is yelling and tugging. Now it lunges 
forward into another slough; now it rises 
again. Ah, here we are! It is on hard 
ground once more, and every one has paused 
to get breath. 

But the place had to be mended, for there 
were other wagons waiting in line, so all ran 
to bring rails from the fence, and they were 
laid across the road in the mud to make a 



2l6 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

flooring. Where the mud was the deepest 
they were laid in several thicknesses. A 
roadbed of rails or trees laid in that way was 
called a ** corduroy." I remember one in- 
stance where the wheels on one side of a 
wagon had settled deeply in the mud, and the 
wagon had fallen over on its side. Impossi- 
ble as it may seem, the wagon with its ton or 
more of freight was lifted upright and drawn 
out of the slough by human strength. 

I believe, however, that there were a few 
instances in which the wagons with their con- 
tents were burned, in accordance with the 
orders, for they were so hopelessly mired 
that they could not be extricated without 
causing too much delay. 

There is an old saying, attributed to the 
Duke of Wellington, I think, to the effect 
that "an army travels on its belly." The 
meaning of this homely adage is that an 
army is dependent, above all things else, 
upon food supplies. Hence the great promi- 
nence given in reports, orders, and military 
literature of all kinds to what is aptly termed 
"the base of supplies." In this campaign 
the country itself was made the base of sup- 
plies, and food disappeared before us as frost 
disappears before the morning sun. When 



MARCHING THROUGH GEORGIA 21/ 

we marched at the head the country opened 
before us teeming with a wealth of domestic 
animals and harvested crops, all of which 
was manna to our cracker-and-salt-pork- 
wasted stomachs and scurvy-infested bodies ; 
and I may as well say in passing that, in ac- 
cordance with orders from headquarters, we 
promptly assumed proprietary rights in 
everything of the food kind. 

But when it became our turn to bring up 
the rear of the army, the pleasant rural land- 
scape seemed to have been swept by the 
wand of the Angel of Death. Stock and food 
of all kinds had disappeared, while buildings 
and fences were transformed to smoking 
ruins, and sometimes even the forests were 
in flames. Let the reader imagine, if he can, 
a strip of country ' ' sixty miles in latitude, — 
three hundred to the main," subjected to 
such a visitation ; it will be likely to give him 
a renewed interest in international arbitra- 
tion. 

Roads filled with wagons and artillery, 
with troops mxarching at the sides or through 
the fields, and followed by unnumbered 
crowds of slaves revelling in the fervent be- 
lief that " De day hab come," made a picture 
not soon to be forgotten. 



21 8 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

But the thought of freedom was too great 
for some of the poor creatures to grasp. I 
remember one group of slaves who stood by 
the roadside looking wonderingly at the pass- 
ing body of troops. As there was a halt for 
rest just as we reached that point, some of 
the boys entered into conversation with them. 
One asked them why they did not follow 
the army and go to the North. "You are 
free now, you know," the soldier explained. 

"Free!" They could not understand it. 

" Yes, Abe Lincoln has made you free ; you 
can go where you please now, and your mas- 
ter can't stop you." They looked from one 
to another, and then one seemed to be struck 
by a bright thought. 

"Guess dat wouldn't go down wid ole 
Marse!" he exclaimed, and they all chuckled 
and laughed in accord, for they thought they 
saw now that we were trying to joke them. 
So we left them, but as we were in the ad- 
vance that day, and thousands of the freed- 
men were following on behind, they were 
probably convinced before night. 

But not all of them were so slow in grasping 
the thought. In one of our night camps 
there was an old white-headed negro who 
went limping around from one camp-fire to 



MARCHING THROUGH GEORGIA 219 

another, and the excitement of it all had 
fairly wrought him into an ecstacy of feeling 
in which he seemed to be contemplating him- 
self complacently as being in some sort a 
prophet. 

"De Lor' bless ye, boys!" he exclaimed, 
raising both hands above his crown of white 
wool; " I knowed it 'd come; I 's looked for 
it dis fifteen year, and I pray de Lor' I might 
live to see de day." 

And then this Simeon of his race leaned 
heavily on his staff again and went tottering 
on into the night towards other fires, no 
doubt to again congratulate himself and call 
blessings on the Northmen because of the 
early fulfilment of his prophecy. 





CHAPTER XXI 

Sherman's march to the sea 

"Sherman's Bummers" — Writer Joins the Foraging 
Party— An Antique of the Race Course — Capture 
of Millegeville — A Calaboose, a Church, and a Lib- 
erty Pole — Investigating a Prison-Pen. 

IN connection with the food supply of this 
army. a few words should be said here 
in reference to those erstwhile famous bands 
known as "Sherman's Bummers," for there 
seems to have gone forth an impression that 
they were an irresponsible set of pillagers. 
When we left Atlanta it was published far 
and wide in Northern papers that our wagons 
contained five months' rations, but this was 
probably intended to mislead the enemy, for 
from that time until we entered Savannah, a 
month later, not five days' rations were 
issued from the wagons. 

To use the country as a source of suppHes 
220 



SHERMAN'S MARCH TO THE SEA 221 

became a necessity, and to provision his 
army in this way Sherman, not only in this 
campaign, but more especially in the sub- 
sequent Carolina campaigns, made use of a 
new organization which may fairly be said 
to have been his invention. A certain por- 
tion of each regiment was detailed to act as a 
foraging party, and was placed under com- 
mand of a commissioned officer, who led his 
little band where he chose. Some of the 
parties would push out north or south of the 
army, and some would go directly ahead of 
it, and they would be absent a day or two, 
and sometimes several days. 

It was these small bands of foragers (which, 
however, were perfectly legitimate military 
organizations) which received the nickname 
of "Bummers." This word, at first used in 
derision, soon took its place in the army 
vocabulary, and occasionally made its ap- 
pearance in general orders. They brought in 
all manner of provisions, from sweet pota- 
toes to beef on the hoof, and when they re- 
turned to the regiment whatever was brought 
in was turned over to the Quartermaster, and 
was issued by him in regular form. Some- 
times a poor strip of country would be passed, 
where nothing but com in the ear could be 



222 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

obtained; but one may feel perfectly secure 
against hunger if he but have corn to parch 
in the frying-pan. 

They started out on foot of course, but it 
was not many days before they had supplied 
themselves with mules and horses from the 
plantations, and thereafter might have been 
not inappropriately termed mounted infantry. 
The orders were strict not to enter private 
houses, but there were some stragglers, men 
who strayed away from their commands to 
pillage and destroy, and to this irresponsi- 
ble class must be attributed the burning of 
houses, and other wilful acts of destruction. 

Provisioning the army was only one of the 
benefits realized from this organization. Its 
effect was to surround us with an extremely 
active and aggressive advance guard, which 
kept the enemy in ignorance most of the time 
of what our army was doing, and, in fact, of • 
its exact locality. The complete indepen- 
dence of action of these small bodies enabled 
them to outstrip even the cavalry, which 
moved under orders from headquarters. 

There was one instance of this which I re- 
member hearing of at the time, and as I 
have since heard General Kilpatrick tell the 
same story, it may now be considered as 



SHERMAN'S MARCH TO THE SEA 223 

vouched for, and better entitled to a place in 
history than some things that have found 
one there. I ought to prelude by saying that 
we were not confronted by any considerable 
body of the enemy, but bands of their cav- 
alry were continually hovering about, seek- 
ing to delay our progress by burning bridges 
and felling trees across the roads, especially 
where they passed through swamps. 

There was a certain bridge over a large 
river which Sherman was very desirous of 
saving from being destroyed. To accom- 
plish this, General Kilpatrick, who was in 
command of the cavalry of Sherman's army, 
took personal command of a considerable 
body of cavalry, and pushed forward by 
forced marches, night and day, hoping to 
surprise the enemy and secure possession of 
the bridge in time to prevent it from being 
burned. As they approached the vicinity of 
the bridge he heard the sound of firing, and 
hastening his command with all speed he 
rushed to the scene. Judge of his surprise 
when he found the bridge already in posses- 
sion of the " Bummers," who with a thick-set 
skirmish-line were holding the enemy at bay. 
Upon his approach he was recognized and 
hailed by an irreverent private, who shouted, 



224 ^^ SEE AT FROM THE RANKS 

** We 've got the bridge; come on 'Kil' and 
help us hold it." 

The General used to tell this story with a 
great deal of relish, for such delightful forget- 
fulness of rank by volunteers under stress of 
emotion never gave him the least offence. 
With the regular troops it could never have 
happened; and it is possible also that with 
the regular troops the bridge would not have 
been saved. These skirmishes with the enemy 
were of frequent occurrence with the " Bum- 
mers," and sometimes a whole detail would be 
surprised and captured. 

As the personnel of the detail was changed 
from time to time, I one day volunteered 
my services as " Bummer," and they were 
promptly accepted. The horse assigned to 
me was tall, thin, and gaunt, "old as the 
hills," and withal was as blind as a stone. 
The saddle was a sheepskin strapped on, but 
as I was accustomed to bareback riding I did 
not mind the trappings. We left the camp 
before daylight, and after travelling some 
distance reached the main highway. We had 
not proceeded far on this before we found the 
detail from another regiment was on the same 
road. It soon became apparent to every one 
that the body which succeeded in getting 



SHERMAN'S MARCH TO THE SEA 225 

ahead would have the first foraging in a 
fresh country, though of course they would 
also run the first risk of capture; this last 
item, however, was not considered at the time. 

Without a word of command there soon 
began a furious race on that broad sandy 
road, and presently the two details were inter- 
mingled for miles along the highway, while 
horses and mules were being urged on by the 
wildest shouting and whipping. I now dis- 
covered that my mount, which looked so un- 
promising when at rest, was in reality an 
antique of the race course, and doubtless had 
a lineage as proud as that of Kubla Khan. 
As a matter of fact, I had left the camp with 
the last of the column, and by the time I had 
reached the main road and had grasped the 
situation, the head of my command was al- 
ready in the race and probably far ahead of 
me. 

But the resounding hoofs, the whipping 
and shouting, and other reminders of race- 
track days soon woke the spirit of "Old 
Steeplechase," and we began to pass the other 
riders as an ocean liner passes saiHng craft. 
I found I had no use for the nail that I had 
carefully fixed in the heel of my shoe to be 
used as a spur. All might have gone well, 



226 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

but rounding a turn in the forest -lined road, I 
suddenly discovered directly in my course a 
man who had dismounted from his mule and 
was fixing his saddle. 

Alas, my fleet but blind craft failed to an- 
swer to the helm, and there was a collision, 
two men and two animals being scattered on 
the ground, and barely escaping the hoofs of 
the oncoming multitude. The horse scram- 
bled to his feet in fright, and with an agility 
born of necessity I recovered my place on his 
back, and we sped on, but I have sometimes 
wondered since how long that man of the 
mule continued to use such language as was 
filling the air when I left. Even with this 
hindrance, long before the officer in command 
called a halt after some fifteen or more miles 
of racing, I was at the head of the column. 

We now waited an hour for the stragglers 
and slow mounts to come up. The compet- 
ing body were not to be seen, and they had 
probably turned off on some other road. As 
we were now entirely beyond the army, the 
command was drawn together and kept in a 
better defensive attitude, flankers being put 
out where the lay of the country permitted. 
Some time in the afternoon we turned off the 
main road to a large plantation, and here we 



SHERMAN'S MARCH TO THE SEA 21J 

found the supplies we wanted for the regi- 
ment. Not a white person was visible, but 
several slaves were about the place. We 
gathered quantities of smoked meat and 
bags of meal and corn from the outbuild- 
ings, and, piling them into the farm wagon, 
found we had quite a wagon load. 

I was armed only with a pistol, but the men 
had their rifles and ammunition, and pickets 
were at once posted about the place. Not 
only did we stay there that night, but on the 
succeeding night also. When on the third 
day we set out to look for the regiment, we 
had several wagon loads of food supplies 
which we had gathered, with the plantation 
teams to draw it, and we had to go back some 
miles to meet the army. Even after getting 
into the army again it was no easy task to find 
that portion of it where our regiment was, and 
it was night when we reached it, but the sup- 
plies were much appreciated. 

We arrived at Milledgeville, then the capi- 
tal of the State, November 2 2d, and the place 
was surrendered by the Mayor. This stately 
event of surrendering a country village, 
"inhabited by women and niggers," as 
the wag remarked, to an army of seventy 
thousand, was unusual, and to us it seemed 



228 AS SEEN- FROM THE RANKS 

entirely unnecessary. But we were not to be 
outdone in ceremonious courtesy, it seemed, 
for the troops entered the town in proper 
form, with martial tread, while the Mayor on 
the court-house steps reviewed the procession. 
Ours was the lead that day, and we headed 
the column playing Yankee Boodle. His 
Honor neither praised nor criticised the selec- 
tion, but then, — his eye may have caught 
sight of a fat Pekin duck which I was carry- 
ing in my left hand while I played with my 
right! It was one that I had picked up a 
little way back, — perhaps on the Mayor's 
plantation, who knows? 

For some reason we remained near Milledge- 
ville during the following day. It was the 
only day's rest we had between Atlanta and 
Savannah, and a most fortunate rest it was 
to me, for my physical condition at the time 
was such that probably this opportune halt 
saved me from completely giving out. It was 
a very cold day, especially so we thought for 
November weather in Georgia, water freez- 
ing in pools all day. But the opportunity 
for rest was appreciated, as was also the duck, 
which, after being picked and stuffed with 
broken hardtack, was nicely roasted over the 
fire, poised on a spit of green wood. 



SHERMAN'S MARCH TO THE SEA 229 

This place was about the last of the good 
country, — from an agricultural point of view, 
I mean, — for from this point eastward the 
farm land grew less in area, and the swamps 
grew more extensive, until near the coast it 
became " a dreadful hungry country , " as one 
of the boys called it ; but it was not so much 
the country as it was the army that was 
hungry. 

The town of Eatonton presented a scene 
which has ever since been to me a source of 
much perplexity of thought on the intricacies 
and mysteries of human nature. The scene 
was this : 

A church, and near at hand a calaboose, 
which is a place where some men had made 
it their occupation to whip slaves for their 
refined and genteel owners, — and towering 
above the calaboose was a "liberty pole." 
Religion in fact; liberty in theory; slavery 
in practice. How shall we explain it^* 

It will perhaps assist us if we are reminded 
again that the acts were not of men, but 
rather were the natural outgrowth of the 
institution of slavery, for we must remember 
that since the coming of King Demos nations 
no longer stand in danger from men ; the role 
of tyrant has passed now to institutions 



230 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

instead. The modern danger to the Common- 
wealth was clearly prophesied by Thoreau as 
being "that some monster instituiion would 
at length embrace and crush its free members 
in its scaly folds." Happily, by the outcome 
of the war one monster institution was laid 
at rest, but barely in time to save us from 
being crushed in its scaly folds. 

"But the inconsistency!" you exclaim; 
"the emblem of liberty raised over a cal- 
aboose, and both presided over by the 
church ! ' ' 

Yes, certainly, but let us suspend judg- 
ment, for we of the North had our inconsist- 
encies, and the next generation — aye, and 
the present perhaps — may pronounce us all 
equally inconsistent in some other matters. 

I am afraid that it never occurred to those 
who fell victims to the barbarities of the 
Southern prison system to draw comfort by 
philosophizing on the remote cause of their 
misfortunes. The system referred to is al- 
ready so severely condemned by the better 
sentiment among themselves that at the 
present day not one of their number has the 
hardihood to attempt to defend it. It was 
a losing game for them, for although it cost 
us tens of thousands of good lives, yet the 



SHERMAN'S MARCH TO THE SEA 231 

Spirit which it awakened in the North when 
the animus of our foes was once understood 
was such that from that time on their ulti- 
mate defeat was never for a moment in doubt- 
We passed one of these prison pens on De- 
cember 3d, which gave us an opportunity to 
investigate its interior and exterior arrange- 
ments. The record of the fact that in the 
Northern army prisoners never received in- 
sult or injury is an everlasting testimonial 
of the better civilization bred under free 
institutions. 




CHAPTER XXII 

END OF THE MARCH 

A Song by the Camp-Fire, and what Followed — A 
Strayed Premonition — How Railroads Were De- 
stroyed — Capturing a Steamboat— In Front of 
Savannah — Rice Plantations — Lumber for Winter 
Quarters. 

IT was about two weeks after we left At- 
lanta before the army itself came in con- 
tact with the enemy, and then only in a 
skirmish. The band had gathered as usual 
about its camp-fire one evening, where we 
expected company at any time, for the musi- 
cal talent included in the group attracted 
many first and last, until it had become a 
tacitly understood middle-ground in the gulf 
'twixt commissions and ranks. 

On this particular evening the Sergeant 
Major — as it happened, a stalwart Scotch- 
English blend who stood six feet two and 
232 



END OF THE MARCH 233 

handled a sword much more gracefully than 
he did his /i'5— was the first to arrive and 
drop on the carpet of pine needles. He had 
not been there long before he removed his 
pipe from his mouth and began to sing. 
This surprised me, for I had never heard him 
sing a note before; but his voice was a rich 
baritone, though uncultivated, and he sang 
fairly well None were loth to listen to good 
singing at such a time, and he sang on and 
on; love song, drinking song, and camp song 
following in succession. At last he paused, 
and, reaching for a brand to relight his pipe, 
dryly remarked: 

*'Hi don't knoo what 's got hinlo me to- 
night. Hi 'ave n't felt so bloody-mooch like 
singin' since Peach Tree Creek. We moost 
be a-goin' to 'av' a fight to-morrow. Hi 
halways feels like singin' the hevenin' afore 
a fight." 

As it happened, the next day while we 
were entering Sanders ville, our brigade being 
in the lead that day, the enemy's cavalry 
opened fire on the advance guard immediately 
in our front, my own regiment being in the 
firing line, and as we entered the village play- 
ing a patriotic air, a slight shower of lead 
whispered over our heads. I saw two or 



234 ^^ SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

three wounded, but I do not remember that 
any of our men were killed. But the enemy 
left a few of their dead behind, one soldier in 
gray being stretched at full length on the 
porch of the village church. Though the 
firing was lively for a time our line never 
paused in their forward sweep, and the flurry 
was soon over. 

It was hardly enough of a skirmish to be 
called a " fight," but perhaps it was sufficient 
to preserve the self-respect of that ' ' bloody- 
mooch" desire to indulge in song which had 
manifested itself on the previous evening. A 
few centuries ago such an occurrence would 
have been sufficient material for the making 
of a legend and a romance combined. Now, 
however, the element of superstition seems 
to be so far outgrown by the common mind 
that the matter caused almost no comment, 
and I only remember it as a curious incident 
that no one thought of attempting to explain. 

A hon mot which seemed to be much more 
in keeping with the spirit of the time was per- 
petrated by a facetious comrade, who re- 
marked that Sandersville was well named, 
for it was the only place thus far that gave 
indications of having any "grit." 

With the skirmish ended there was a halt 



END OF THE MARCH 235 

for dinner, and now began a running to and 
fro through the village and surrounding 
farms in search of provisions. I succeeded 
in overtaking a hen, but in decapitating it 
my hands and face became spattered with 
blood. There was no water near except in 
wells, and I did not care to become a comedy 
star by returning to the line in that plight. 
So, thinking only of procuring a basin of 
water for washing, and never once reflecting 
on the incongruity of the act, I stepped on 
the back piazza of one of the houses and 
knocked gently at the door. 

It opened, and there was disclosed within 
a group of women, in ages ranging from fif- 
teen to fifty, I judge, and the whole group 
stood transfixed with terror at the sight of 
my blood-smeared face and hatchet Had 
I come to murder them, as I doubtless had 
others? My appearance was certainly in 
evidence against me. 

I had a sudden feeling of embarrassment at 
having intruded in that rude manner and 
frightening the family, but I could not retreat 
then. So with such politeness as I could 
summon I asked for a basin of water. One 
of the girls, perhaps eighteen or more years 
of age, with a womanly quickness of percep- 



236 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

tion, seemed to be the first to grasp the situa- 
tion, and, coming forward, she took down a 
basin, and dipping some water from a pail 
with a gourd dipper, brought it outside and 
set it on a bench. 

I murmured thanks, and something about 
being sorry to make so much trouble (oh, 
how ridiculous the conventionalities seemed 
in such a case!), and her grave, frank face 
actually relaxed with a little smile while she 
went in again and soon returned with a clean 
towel, which she stood and held in waiting 
for me to take. I will not say that I com- 
pleted the washing and wiping in haste, for 
the reader would not believe me if I did. It 
was necessary for me to explain that we had 
no regular rations, and were therefore obliged 
to live on the country, and that I hoped the 
passage of the army would not entail great 
loss upon them, etc. 

She responded to it all with politeness, and 
continued to converse with a well-bred tact 
that put me more at ease, and left me in no 
doubt of the fact that she was a lady. Pos- 
sibly the sudden revulsion of feeling from 
that of terror made her forget for the moment 
that I was part of an invading army whose 
errand was destruction, and gave a little 



END OF THE MARCH 237 

flavor of friendliness to her conversation, for 
the reader must remember that what she 
probably thought was a battle had just been 
fought before her eyes. 

When I finally took my leave, it was with 
a mutual exchange of good wishes, each for 
the other, but as I turned to take up the dead 
fowl, a queer feeling came over me, and I had 
half a mind to leave it where it lay. Then I 
reflected that it would probably be my last 
opportunity for the day to get food, and — 
hunger got the upper hand of sentiment, and 
the fowl went with me. 

This was the only glimpse I had through- 
out the whole march of a white family in their 
own home, and I never ceased to hope that 
they might have no worse cause for fright 
than the one I gave. Yet, whenever after 
that I thought of the appearance of the coun- 
try at those times when we had brought up 
the rear instead of being in the van, the 
thought was not a pleasant one. 

I told Frank what a hard chase I had after 
the fowl, and he congratulated me upon my 
success in foraging, but remarked that I had 
been gone long enough to have chased the 
chicken half-way across the State. It was 
dressed and neatly packed away in the 



238 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

haversacks until the night camp should give 
us time to cook it. For dinner we had com- 
mon field corn parched in the frying-pan, 
but I had hardly swallowed a handful of it 
before we were ordered to again resume the 
march; the hour of nooning had somehow 
slipped away. 

I am reminded here of another incident in 
our brigade that seemed to have a bearing on 
the subject of premonitions, of which I spoke 
a short time ago. A certain sergeant had 
been in no less than fifteen battles and had 
never experienced any special dread, or "a 
feeling of premonition," as he expressed it, 
though he had once been slightly wounded. 
But at the approach of the very last battle in 
which his regiment was engaged, the battle 
of Bentonville, North Carolina, he was over- 
come by a feeling of impending death. He 
was not in the least superstitious, but try as 
he would he could not throw off this feeling, 
and having a little time he sat down and wrote 
a letter to his family. Sealing and directing 
it he took it to his lieutenant, and requested 
him to send it if he, the sergeant, should not 
survive the battle. He then explained to the 
lieutenant his presentiment, and that he could 
not throw off the feeling of impending death. 



END OF THE MARCH 239 

"God help you, Sergeant, if you feel so," 
replied the lieutenant, putting the letter in his 
pocket, "but I am as sure of going home to 
my family as I am that the sun will rise." 

The lieutenant was killed in that battle, 
and it was the sergeant who lived to tell me 
about it all and finally go home to his family. 

As I have intimated, this was more a cam- 
paign of labor than of fighting. The country 
was full of swamps and streams, more espe- 
cially on the latter half of the journey, bridges 
were destroyed and roadways were obstructed 
by having trees felled across them. An 
army of that size can live well in a country 
teeming with plenty as long as it keeps mov- 
ing, but if Hood, instead of his wild-goose 
chase to Nashville, had remained in our front, 
we should have been starved out. As it was, 
the bridging of streams and swamps, cor- 
duroying roads underlaid with quicksand, 
removing obstructions of all kinds, and drag- 
ging wagons and guns out of the mud with 
ropes was an immense labor and more wear- 
ing on the men than the easy distances 
marched. 

The destruction of railroads, when it was 
thoroughly done, was a laborious task. The 
interruption of traffic for a few days was not 



240 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

sufficient. We were cutting the Confederacy 
in two now, and the railroads, its great arte- 
ries, must be so thoroughly destroyed that 
they could not be repaired. 

A regiment would line up on one side of the 
track, and taking hold of the rail and ends of 
the ties, would begin to lift it up. Presently 
it would be standing on the ends of the ties, 
and as it began to go over at one point the 
men would let go, and, running behind the 
others who were still lifting, grasp a new 
place and continue the raising. When once 
started in this way, the track, rails and ties 
together, would be slowly rolling over like an 
immense furrow of sod rolling from some 
giant plough. 

" Now surely the railroad is destroyed," the 
novice would say. Not at all, for it could 
easily be put together again; the ties must 
be burned. These, however, could be re- 
placed by an army of slaves ; the rails them- 
selves must be made useless. This was 
accomplished by piling up the ties with fence 
rails and dry wood, and across each pile 
would be laid perhaps a dozen of the iron 
rails. The burning of the ties would heat 
these, and while they were red hot each rail 
was twisted by the use of a peculiar wrench. 



END OF THE MARCH 24 1 

A bent rail can be straightened, but a thor- 
oughly twisted rail can never be used again, 
and the Confederates had no source from 
which to replace them. 

As the campaign continued the constant 
foraging, destroying railroads, and skirmish- 
ings grew almost monotonous, except that 
as we approached the coast food grew scarcer 
while the swamps to be waded grew wider and 
deeper. A few days before the end of our 
march, Captain Gildersleeve (now Judge Gil- 
dersleeve of New York) , while in charge of the 
foraging detail in search of food, touched the 
Savannah River at a point several miles above 
the city. While here they discovered a steam- 
boat coming up the river, and hailed her 
with orders to "Heave to." The boatmen, 
however, put on all steam, and it continued 
its course, they evidently hoping to get out 
of range. But a few bullets through the pilot- 
house cau^d the captain to change his mind, 
and a white flag was shaken out. When she 
was pulled to the shore a small body of Con- 
federates was found on board. These were 
placed under guard and taken away as pris- 
oners, but the boat was burned where it lay. 

It was soon after this that our brigade was 

engaged with a small body of the enemy. 
16 



242 AS SEEN' FROM THE RANKS 

They had erected earthworks and resisted 
our advance with some show of force. When 
a Hne was formed for the attack our position 
was not immediately in front of their works, 
but was on the flank. The resistance was not 
formidable and the works were soon in our 
possession, with a few prisoners who preferred 
to stay and end their military service by being 
taken. Our position in the line prevented 
the regiment from taking an active part in 
the skirmish, but we had an unpleasant ex- 
perience in that we were obliged to wade 
through a rice swamp where the mud and 
water was nearly leg deep. 

The river is very broad in its lower course, 
and is subject to the rise and fall of the tide. 
The land is much of it so low that the rice 
plantations are only protected from the en- 
croachments of the tides and freshets by a 
system of dykes. But instead of the Holland 
system, which pumps out the water from the 
low-lying farm-lands, these dykes have out- 
lets through which the water escapes at low 
tide, but which are automatically closed by 
swinging doors in such a way as to shut out 
the rising tide. Near the city the river sep- 
arates and flows in different channels, en- 
closing thus low-lying islands which are miles 



END OF THE MARCH 243 

in extent. Each island was a rice plantation 
surrounded by its dykes with tide gates, and 
fortunately there was there in store some 
rice, which was soon needed. 

On December 8th we took up a position in 
front of the city, and "Marching through 
Georgia" was at an end. Our camp was es- 
tablished in a beautiful grove of live-oaks on 
the bank of the river a few miles above the 
city. The exquisite beauty of that brief 
camp remains with me a sweet memory in 
these New England winters. The ground 
was thirty or forty feet above the river, level 
and free from bushes, and the majestic live- 
oaks with their foliage of dark green leaves 
overhead furnished a canopy to what seemed 
a vast cathedral. Their sturdy trunks, with 
large low limbs which spread gradually out- 
ward and upward in regular curves, gave the 
curious effect that, gaze which way you 
might, you seemed to be looking through a 
vast succession of Gothic arches spanning 
vaulted aisles that radiated from where you 
stood; and all were hung and draped in 
wondrous profusion with the long Southern 
tree moss, which gave the scene a hoary and 
enchanting effect. 

We began here to build winter quarters of 



244 ^-5- SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

boards and logs, using our little tents for 
roofs, for the thought of more permanent 
accommodation continually haunts, like a 
mirage, the soldier's life. As may be sur- 
mised, material in the way of boards soon 
became a rare article, for they were only to 
be obtained by tearing down some sort of 
buildings, and a few of us, having secured a 
boat, determined on an excursion in search 
of lumber. Getting an early start in the 
morning we rowed easily up the river several 
miles above our lines, until we came to an 
island plantation. It was entirely aban- 
doned, which was fortunate for us, for we had 
only the little hatchets which nearly all sol- 
diers carried. As it was on the Carolina side 
of the river it had not been exploited by 
foragers, which was another piece of good 
fortime for us. 

The "quarters" were little cabins built of 
boards of the Southern pine, and it was not 
difficult for us to take some of these apart and 
carry the boards to the water. As the tide 
was out we built a raft on the mud, and while 
we waited for the returning tide to float it we 
went in search of food. But there was none 
to be found except some rice in the hull, and 
and of this we procured considerable. 



END OF THE MARCH 245 

Northern readers will need to have it ex- 
plained that rice when it is threshed from the 
straw is not the beautiful white kernels of the 
rice of commerce. Each white kernel is en- 
closed in a yellow husk, giving it much the 
appearance of barley. So tightly does this 
hull cling to the kernel that it can only be 
loosened by being pounded in a mortar. As 
we had already learned so much of the indus- 
trial peculiarities of the crop, we were not slow 
in appropriating a large iron kettle we found 
here, and adding it to our cargo, for we could 
use this as a mortar. 

About the middle of the afternoon all was 
ready for the start. The raft with its freight 
was swaying on the flood tide, and we at- 
tached it to the stern of the boat and at- 
tempted to tow it down the river, but it 
proved to be a most obstinate hulk, and 
would go nowhere but with the current. So 
we held a council of war, with the result that 
it was decided that myself with one other 
should remain on the raft and go down with 
the ebbing tide, but the others were to go 
ahead with the boat, and while preparing sup- 
per should watch for us, and come out and 
tow us in when we had drifted opposite the 
camp. 



246 AS SEE AT FROM THE RANKS 

I had a more verdant faith in human nature 
before that episode than I have had since. 
They were only too glad to go ahead to camp, 
and being soon busily engaged about their 
supper, never watched for us at all. 

We two who were left procured some long 
poles, and as soon as the tide had turned 
boarded our craft, and pushing it well out 
into the muddy river waited for it to carry 
us down; and as we waited darkness settled 
around and enclosed us. We shoved well 
towards the south shore, and drifting faster 
and faster finally came in sight of the army 
camp-fires. Just above our own camp was 
a point of land projecting into the river, and 
upon this landmark we depended to find 
our way, but as we swung round it the 
current carried us far out into the channel, 
and we could not touch bottom with the 
poles. 

Here was a predicament, for our unman- 
ageable craft was sweeping us towards the 
Confederate lines, which were but a short 
distance below, with the now rapid current. 
We splashed and paddled furiously with our 
poles, and just as we were preparing to 
abandon the raft and swim for safety, the 
poles again touched bottom, and we soon 



END OF THE MARCH 



247 



pushed to the shore and along in the eddies 
up to our camp. 

We found the rest of our party enjoying a 
comfortable smoke after supper, and it is just 
possible that we reverted a little to the Saxon 
in explaining our sentiments. 




/ 



CHAPTER XXIII 

CAPTURE OF SAVANNAH AND INVASION OF 
SOUTH CAROLINA 

Army Suffering with Hunger — Enemy's Prudent Re- 
treat — Unparalleled Campaign — Journalistic En- 
terprise — Crossing the Savannah into South Caro- 
lina — Cold Weather Again — Skilful Manoeuvring 
— General Kilpatrick's Adventure. 

WITH the lumber secured we proceeded 
to the building of the winter quarters, 
but as it happened we did not enjoy them 
long. In a few days Fort McAllister, on the 
Ogeechee River, was captured, and this 
opened mail communication, but did not 
suffice for a " cracker line." During the last 
two weeks of our march the country had 
grown poorer in the matter of supplies, for 
as the swamps had grown broader the arable 
land had decreased. As soon as we halted in 
front of the city food disappeared from the 
248 



CAPTURE OF SAVANNAH 249 

surrounding country in a twinkling. A little 
additional was obtained from the rice planta- 
tions on the river, but that also soon van- 
ished, and we were confronted by an enemy 
more imperious than the Confederate army. 

A little corn had been saved for the mules, 
for it was imperative to keep them alive, but 
it became necessary to place an armed guard 
over them while they ate or the corn would 
be stolen. Major Smith's compassionate 
heart was so moved by the sight that each 
day when he drew the few ears of corn al- 
lowed for his horse he divided it among the 
men most in need, letting the poor beast eat 
twigs, moss, or anything else. He never re- 
covered from the moss and brush diet, and 
the good Major was obliged to get a new horse 
soon after. Many times I have seen men 
searching the dirt where the mules had eaten 
their corn, to pick out the scattering kernels 
one by one and save them for their supper. 

The city was peculiarly well situated for 
defence against assault, one side fronting on 
the broad river, and the other sides being 
nearly surrounded by a morass too wide to be 
quickly bridged and too soft to be walked 
over. Its fortifications, looking out across 
this barrier, seemed absolutely inaccessible. 



250 AS SEEN- FROM THE RANKS 

It was about ten days after the arrival of 
the army in front of the city that a large por- 
tion of our regiment was ferried across the 
river in flat-boats to watch the enemy, who 
were seen to have pontoon bridges connect- 
ing the city with the South Carolina shore. 
Here our men were confronted by a consider- 
able body of Confederates, with whom they 
had some skirmishing for a few days, losing 
several killed and wounded. Colonel Ketcham 
being among the latter. He was crippled by 
a shot through the thigh. 

The enemy were seen to be leaving the city 
and crossing the bridges in considerable num- 
bers, and it was thought that if we gave them 
time enough they would all retreat by that 
way. But the army was really suffering for 
food, and it was decided that an assault must 
be made at all hazards. Quantities of tall 
Southern cane was cut and tied in bundles, 
which were to be carried forward just before 
the break of day and laid in the mud to form 
roads over which the charging forces could 
cross the swamp in front of the works. 

It promised to be a bloody task, and the 
morning set for it was December 21st, but 
during the previous night, having perhaps 
got an inkling of our plans, the remainder of 



CAPTURE OF SAVANNAH 25 1 

the enemy quietly but very hastily left the 
city, retreating northward on the pontoon 
bridges our regiment had been watching, 
across the Savannah River into South 
Carolina. 

Comparing its results with its cost, Sher- 
man's march to the sea stands unparalleled 
among the campaigns of the war. By 
cutting the Confederacy in two, destroying 
long lines of railroads, crippling its internal 
resources, and approaching the rear of forces 
then confronting the Army of the Potomac, 
thus effecting what is known in military par- 
lance as a "concentric movement," it was a 
mighty factor in bringing the rebellion to a 
close. In accomplishing these great results 
the army lost in killed, wounded, and missing 
less than one per cent. In other respects 
also the campaign brought us great gains, 
for the enemy left behind in their flight 
valuable stores and a large amount of ar- 
tillery. 

Up to the very last day of their occupancy 
the Savannah Republican was published and 
sold on the streets, but so sudden was the 
departure of the Confederates that the office 
and publishing rooms, with all their material 
and machinery, were found perfectly intact 



252 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

by our troops in the morning. Yankee en- 
terprise seemed to be always on hand- 
Ready writers dropped the musket, and as- 
suming the pen began to furnish copy ; com- 
positors who could set type as readily as 
they could load a rifle were summoned from 
the ranks, and by afternoon the paper was 
sold on the streets without having missed an 
issue. 

It announced the evacuation of the city by 
the Confederates the night before, and the 
consequent occupation by Sherman's army, 
with the change of editorship and proprietor- 
ship, and naturally also there was an editorial 
statement in regard to a "change of atti- 
tude" upon national affairs. Can the boast- 
ful spirit of modern newspaperdom give a 
more striking instance of journalistic enter- 
prise ? 

The city of Savannah fronts the river on a 
towering bluff, and as I remember it 't is a 
city of beautiful monuments, beautiful ave- 
nues and boulevards, revelling in the luxuri- 
ous shade trees of that climate. As one 
stands on the bluff and looks northward into 
South Carolina, there are long reaches across 
the river channels with enclosed islands miles 
in extent, and beyond on the mainland the 



CAPTURE OF SAVANNAH 253 

horizon is lost in the forest covering of those 
seemingly interminable swamps. 

Our objective point was now the rear of 
Lee's army in Virginia, but between our- 
selves and that point were hundreds of miles 
of low-lying swampy country, with streams 
all running at right angles to our necessary 
course, and just at that time too there were 
heavy rains, putting the whole of that coastal 
plain in a state of inundation. Such a con- 
dition of things would have made it difficult 
to continue even the ordinary vocations of 
peace in that half-drowned land. How then 
was a whole army to traverse such a country 
in midwinter, with all its munitions, and 
hindered by bands of cavalry as well as by 
the citizens who burned bridges and ob- 
structed roads by every possible means? I 
think it was the opinion, both North and 
South, that the attempt would not be made. 

But Sherman was then flushed with suc- 
cess, and he made light of difficulties and 
dangers that would have daunted almost any 
commander at an earlier stage of the war. 
Perhaps also he realized that the merciful 
war is that which is made the shortest — at 
any cost. I doubt, however, if the plans 
could have been successful, even with his 



254 ^-^ SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

indomitable energy, had it not been for the 
modern form of improved pontoon boats. 

In these the boat was a framework covered 
with cotton duck. When the cloth was re- 
moved the frame was taken apart, and the 
whole could then be loaded on wagons and 
transported much easier than the boats 
formerly used, and the small amount of 
water v/hich found its way through the duck 
was easily removed. The ready and expert 
handling of these bridges, enabling them to 
be quickly put in place and as quickly taken 
up and loaded on the wagons, was an art in 
which the Engineer Corps became very ac- 
complished. 

A marked feature of this campaign, as of 
the previous one, was the great number of 
slaves which literally swarmed to the army. 
Of these a large and efficient force was or- 
ganized to assist the Engineer Corps, as they 
were ready users of the axe and spade; but 
simply as a military measure, on account of 
the prospect of a scarcity of food, the General 
was obliged to exclude large numbers of them 
and prevent their following us. 

January i6, 1865, we crossed the river on 
the same pontoon bridges that the Confeder- 
ates had escaped by, and which in their haste 



CAPTURE OF SAVANNAH 255 

they had left already in place for us. They 
were made on the immense river scows so 
much used on the tidal rivers there, and, of 
course, could not be readily transported ; but 
left in position for us, they proved to be quite 
an assistance. Two days' march brought us 
to Sister's Ferry on the Savannah River, and 
here we waited for a week, for the Confeder- 
ates now confronted us in some force, and it 
became necessary to wait until the body of 
the army was well across, enabling it to in- 
vade the country with a good defensive front 
and form. 

Let no one suppose that " the sunny South- 
land" is always sunny, or that it forever 
caresses the cheek with the soft breath of 
warm zephyrs. During the week of our stay 
here the weather was very cold for that cli- 
mate, as in fact it had been during much of 
our stay in Savannah. Sometimes water 
would freeze half an inch thick in a night, 
and as our clothing had become much worn 
this campaign caused more suffering from 
cold and wet than anything we had ex- 
perienced. 

In that whole two months' tramping and 
camping from Savannah to Raleigh, my rec- 
ollection of the landscape is of a dreary 



256 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

succession of forests of Southern pine, and of 
swamps where the doleful cypress trees were 
standing in the water ; and in area the^ latter 
seemed to greatly predominate. Perhaps 
they left that impression because they were 
so much more troublesome in passing. There 
were occasional oases of plantations with 
their long rows of little log cabins for the 
slaves, known as "quarters." One of these 
plantations had been devoted — so the over- 
seer told us — to raising slave children for 
market. There were nearly three hundred 
slave women, and a dozen or two slave men, 
about the place. 

South Carolina looked poor from an agri- 
cultural standpoint, but the same means for 
provisioning the army were used here that 
had proved so successful in Georgia ; in fact, 
the system of foraging begun in the latter 
State was here carried out by a more com- 
plete organization on the same lines. The 
State probably suffered more from the in- 
vasion than Georgia did, and this for several 
reasons. For one thing food was scarcer, 
and the country had to be more thoroughly 
gone over and ransacked in order to supply 
the army. And then, too, there was a more 
marked hostility on the part of the few re- 



CAPTURE OF SAVANNAH 257 

maining inhabitants, and the openly ex- 
pressed opinion in the ranks that, as South 
CaroHna was the first to secede and was the 
most active in promoting the war, if any- 
State had to suffer by it, she should be the 
one. 

Of his foragers while in this State, Sherman 
says, with just a suggestion of humor: "A 
little loose in foraging, they did some things 
they ought not to have done; yet on the 
whole they supplied the army with as little 
violence as could have been expected." But 
the sober fact was that a strip of country 
many miles in width and reaching across 
the State from south to north was stripped 
of fences, buildings, farm animals, property 
and food of every description, though I never 
heard of a case in which violence was offered 
to citizens. 

We were not now, as in Georgia, without 
an army to confront us, for the Confederate 
General "Joe" Johnston had collected some 
of the remnants of Hood's defeated army, 
and probably some forces from other parts, 
and was disputing our progress at every 
stream and swamp. This General Joseph E. 
Johnston is considered by some critics to 
have been the most able general in the 



258 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

Confederate service, not excepting Lee. He * 
commanded the army which confronted 
Sherman in the Atlanta campaign in 1864, 
and he resisted our advance towards that 
city with acknowledged skill. Had he not, 
upon Jefferson Davis's order, been super- 
seded by Hood, it is quite possible that 
Sherman's success would not have been as 
complete as it was. 

There were frequent skirmishes along our 
front, and there is a picture of one of these 
which my Imp continually thrusts before me, 
but the name and locality he has lost. The 
scene is of a far-flung skirmish-line where the 
men are wading among the towering tree 
trunks, nearl}^ leg deep in water, and loading 
and firing as they advance. It was charac- 
teristic of these swamps and flooded low- 
lands that they were crossed by roads and 
causeways, with bridges spanning the chan- 
nels, and it was this which made their passage 
in the face of an enemy so difficult. 

The flooded condition of the country made 
the continual moving of pontoon bridges a 
wearisome task. Sometimes men would be 
ferried across, and when enough were on the 
other side they would throw out a skirmish- 
line to hold the enemy at bay while the bridge 



CAPTURE OF SAVANNAH 259 

was being placed. It was always necessary 
to have the bridges guarded, both while being 
placed and when being taken up. 

One day, when we had marched in a pour- 
ing rain since early morning, we did not get 
into camp until evening. We were tired and 
hungry, thoroughly wet, and quite disposed 
to think that General Sherman was an un- 
reasonable man, and that our lot was a hard 
one. But while we were making some re- 
marks bearing upon this view of the situa- 
tion another regiment passed along without 
stopping to camp. Upon inquiry it tran- 
spired that this regiment had yet to go four- 
teen miles farther in the rain, and then do 
guard duty at a pontoon bridge which must 
be in place before morning. 

All at once our spirits rose to the point of 
cheerfulness; our lot was a pleasant one, 
after all, — comparatively speaking,— and a 
camp in the towering forest, lit up by fires of 
the sooty pitch-pine, is n't bad, even if it 
does rain. Human nature is the same 
always. Comfort and luxury are elastic 
terms, and depend for their meaning mainly 
upon comparative conditions. 

Probably much of Sherman's success was 
due to the skilful manner in which he handled 



26o ^S SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

his troops, continually misleading the enemy 
as to his real destination, and in this he was 
no doubt greatly assisted by his foragers, 
who hung about the army like a cloud. He 
first threatened Charleston with a consider- 
able force, then threatened Augusta in the 
same manner, but finally passed with his 
whole army between the two places. The 
same method answered his purpose all the 
way, continually threatening the places he 
did not mean to strike, while the main part 
of his army moved by other roads. 

In these "demonstrations" of course the 
cavalry formed the active element, because 
of their ability to move rapidly from one 
point to another. The traditional idea of the 
cavalryman as one who rides furiously into 
the enemy's ranks, slashing their heads off 
right and left with his sabre, is not a true 
picture of the service rendered by that branch 
of the army in modern warfare. 

In actual combat, since the coming of the 
long-range rifle, the use of the sabre is as rare 
as the use of the bayonet. In fact, the 
cavalry now does most of its fighting dis- 
mounted, and formed in line like infantry. 
But with us they formed the advance-guard, 
actively pushing out to find and "feel" of 



CAPTURE OF SAVANNAH 26 1 

the enemy, and General Kilpatrick, who had 
command of Sherman's cavalry, was the 
most active and energetic of commanders, 
often being in the thick of the fray himself, 
as was evidenced by the fact that he was 
several times wounded. 

In one of the advances of the cavalry he 
made his camp for the night in an advanced 
position, and in the darkness a band of the 
enemy captured his headquarters and all his 
papers, he barely escaping to a swamp with 
only his sword. He soon discovered that 
most of his guard had also escaped, and under 
the cover of darkness he rapidly formed a line 
in the woods. The enemy were so busy 
looting the baggage that they were surprised 
in turn when with his few men he made a 
dashing charge, and he succeeded in re- 
capturing his camp. 



CHAPTER XXIV 

TRAMPING AND FIGHTING IN THE CAROLINAS 

The Burning of Columbia — Explosion in Cheraw — Tur- 
pentine Factory in Flames — Battle of Averysbor- 
ough — '' Animis Opibusque Parati" — A Little 
Panic Soon Ended — Bentonville, the Last Battle. 

OUR corps passed several miles to the 
west of Columbia about the time that 
it was burned. I shall not attempt to decide 
the much- vexed question of "Who burned 
Columbia ? ' ' but it was currently reported in 
the army at the time that our troops had 
found the city to be on fire in several places 
when they first entered. This and the fact 
that the streets were full of quantities of 
loose cotton blowing here and there in the 
high wind which prevailed at the time made 
its destruction certain. It was also said that 
the soldiers found large quantities of whisky 

there. 

262 



IN THE CAROLINAS 263 

When we consider that from this capital of 
South CaroHna there had emanated for years 
the most vile abuse of Northern men, and 
especially of Northern soldiers, we must con- 
cede that our Southern friends were not wise 
in leaving so much inflammable material of 
various kinds around loose. 

At one of the camps the water obtained 
seemed foul, and when boiled gave out a dis- 
tinct odor of decaying animal matter. The 
slaves about there explained that the water 
came from " Rotten Rock," and was not fit to 
use. They directed us to a spring a mile 
away, where we obtained pure water. This 
was before it was generally known that in 
some parts of the State there are immense 
deposits of fossil remains, and I have since 
wondered whether it was those remains that 
tainted the water. They are now mined and 
used as a source of supply of phosphates for 
fertilizers. 

By March 6th we had traversed the State 
of South Carolina, and arrived at Cheraw on 
its northern boundary. We were not the 
first to arrive, by some days, fortunately for 
us, perhaps, for the Confederates had here 
concealed several tons of powder in a pit, 
carefully covering it over. But it somehow 



264 ^S SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

managed to become ignited, probably from 
the camp-fires, and the resulting explosion 
killed several of our soldiers and completely 
wrecked the town. 

We crossed into North Carolina the next 
day, and soon encountered a characteristic 
war scene in the "Turpentine State." This 
was a tar and turpentine factory in flames, 
and at the distance of fifteen miles the banks 
of black smoke rising against the sky looked 
like the approaching body of a tempest. 

Our line of march led close to the fire, and 
there was a weird and almost supernatural 
effect in the vast seething and roaring body 
of flames, which, shaded and partially hidden 
by the masses of sooty smoke which covered, 
or, lifted by the wind, alternately veiled and 
revealed the endless blue columns swaying 
with the long swinging stride which became 
such a marked characteristic of the men who 
marched down to the sea ; in the long bugle 
peal and rumbling artillery with chaffing 
horses; in the glimmer of muskets and 
sabres ; and in all to be heard and seen only 
by glimpses under the smoke, and muffled by 
the Niagara-like roar of the flames as they 
licked up the turpentine and pitch in the 
great vats. 



IN THE CAROLINAS 265 

It was a frequent custom for the men to 
while away the march by singing, and there 
now came rolhng back from the depths of 
the pine forest the chorus of thousands 
voicing the stately measures of the author- 
less war hymn : 

"John Brown's body lies a mould'ring in the 
grave, 
John Brown's body lies a mould'ring in the 

grave, 
John Brown's body lies a mould'ring in the 
grave, 

His soul is marching on." 

At once a prophecy and its fulfilment. 

By March 1 6th we had reached the vicinity 
of Averysborough, at which place there was 
a battle where our regiment was engaged, 
and where we lost several men. The enemy 
were found strongly entrenched here on a 
neck of land between swamps, from which it 
seemed impossible to dislodge them by direct 
attack. 

But a brigade was sent by a long detour to 
their right to attack the position in flank, 
while our cavalry moved around to their left. 
While the enemy's force was diverted by 
these flank movements our line made a 



266 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

vigorous attack on their centre, but did 
not immediately capture the position. The 
battle raged with some fury until nightfall, 
and when at daylight our line again moved 
forward to the attack, their entrenchments 
were found to be empty ; they had retreated 
in the darkness, moving their forces east- 
ward, as we afterward learned. 

Among the souvenirs in my daughter's 
museum is a relic, a brass button bearing the 
figure of the Palmetto tree, and underneath 
it the State motto, '' Animis Opihusque 
Paratiy Heroic motto, heroically exem- 
plified ! 

It is a trifling thing, but when I take it up 
my Imp at once thrusts before me the picture 
of a portion of this field on the day after the 
battle ; a portion which had been occupied 
by a Confederate battery. There were dis- 
mounted guns, a number of dead horses, and 
other indications that the battery had suf- 
fered severe punishment. The dead soldiers 
had been buried, but from an artilleryman's 
gray jacket, which appeared to have been 
torn by a shell, I took this button. 

The story of this battery interested us 
somewhat at the time, though how it reached 
us, whether through prisoners or over the 



IN THE CAROLINAS 26/ 

vidette line, I cannot now tell. It was from 
South Carolina, and during the whole four 
years of the war they had been in and about 
Charleston, and had not fired a gun for their 
cause. At this battle, though, just at the 
close of the war, they were permitted to take 
part, and fired one volley. Battery M, of 
the ist New York Artillery, the battery 
which accompanied our division, sent a shell 
in answer to their volley, which wrought such 
havoc with the Palmetto battery that they 
never fired again. 

This destructive shell from Battery M had 
pierced their caisson, where the ammunition 
is carried, and the resulting explosion had 
killed many men, officers, and horses. So 
their opening volley was their last. 

This conflict of a day at Averysborough 
was not a large affair, in comparison with the 
numerous sanguinary conflicts which had 
preceded it. It was, however, the first con- 
siderable engagement that the infantry of 
Sherman's army had with the enemy after 
leaving Savannah. It was fought entirely 
by our corps, the Twentieth, and the loss in 
killed and wounded aggregated about six 
hundred. 

But however insignificant a figure it cut in 



268 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

the matter of losses, or numbers engaged, it 
was an important battle because of the criti- 
cal situation in which we were placed. Even 
a temporary defeat while we were thus isolated 
from a base of supplies might have been a 
serious thing. And then, too, there was the 
constant danger that Lee might elude the 
watchfulness of Grant, who confronted him 
at Petersburg, Va., and stealing away un- 
observed, join his army with that of John- 
ston, and with the combined force overwhelm 
our toil-worn trampers. 

It is easy to tell of what might have hap- 
pened, but that which did happen in Vir- 
ginia was that Grant's vigilance made it 
impossible for Lee to get away unobserved, 
and when he finally attempted it he was 
promptly surrounded and his army captured. 

That which happened in North Carolina 
was that the Confederates, disheartened by 
many defeats, were not successful once, but 
were out-generaled, out-fought, and defeated 
in every encounter. 

After this battle we took up our march 
eastward, in the direction of Goldsboro, which 
is on the Neuse River. A few days after 
leaving Averysborough. while we were quietly 
tramping along at the usual marching pace, 



IN THE CAROLINAS 269 

I saw far up the road a horseman riding 
furiously toward us. He was an orderly 
sent on some hasty errand from head- 
quarters, we supposed, and hence he attracted 
little attention. 

Soon we heard the sound of artillery in our 
front, followed by the roar of small-arms. 
This had also become such a frequent occur- 
rence of late as scarcely to cause comment, 
except speculation as to who was "in it." 
But now we noticed pack-mules being urged 
to the rear, soldiers and camp-followers of all 
grades running after them, some of them hat- 
less, and a baggage wagon bumping furiously 
over the rough road as the driver lashed the 
mules and yelled strange oaths. 

At once I understood the situation. I had 
never seen a panic, but I knew this was one, 
and hence it was possible for it to be a serious 
affair. 

A panic is an unreasonable and unreason- 
ing fright, and when it seizes on an army it 
becomes positively infectious and irresistible. 
No matter how well some may keep their 
heads, the very fact that the great body of 
the troops have lost the bonds of discipline 
and the power to reason, and have in fact 
become insane for the time being, puts every 



270 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

one in danger. It was this which defeated 
our raw and undisciplined army in the midst 
of success at the battle of Bull Run in the 
first year of the war. 

But this army with its experience of long 
service had become immune against undue 
fright, and the panic, as the late Artemas 
Ward would have said, "as a failure was a 
success." We halted at the side of the road, 
which for a little time was filled with a st rug- 
ling mass of soldiers, horses, mules, and wag- 
ons, but the scramble was soon ended, and 
every one who had been .concerned in it 
looked ashamed. 

The advance-guard that morning had en- 
countered a small force of the enemy, and 
driving them rapidly back had suddenl}^ and 
most unexpectedly come upon the whole 
Confederate army in a well defended position, 
and were themselves assailed in turn. They 
had gone forward with so little suspicion of 
danger that they had been accompanied by 
a considerable body of stragglers and camp 
followers, mostly officers' servants, all intent 
to forage in search of food, and so eager that 
they kept well up to the front. It was these 
stragglers and foragers who were responsible 
for most of the confusion, for, when the 



IN THE CAROLINAS 27 1 

troops were suddenly repulsed, it was they 
who became so panic-stricken as to endanger 
the welfare of the army. 

But reinforcements came, and, as it had 
been at each place before, the Confederates 
were defeated and driven out of their works. 
Falling back, they now established them- 
selves in a new position, this time near Ben- 
ton ville. At this place they were attacked a 
few days later, and in the battle which ensued 
the enemy were again thoroughly defeated; 
it was Sherman's last battle. In this battle 
we were well towards the extreme left of our 
line, and as soon as the position was taken we 
immediately began to cut the timber in our 
front and put up a breastwork of logs. 

In a defensive position in a forest this cut- 
ting of the timber for a considerable distance 
in front is important, for it not only prevents 
an attacking body from having any conceal- 
ment of their movements, but the entangled 
trunks and limbs of fallen trees make a very 
effective barrier to hinder an assaulting 
force, and to hinder and delay an assault 
when its forces are well under fire is usually 
to defeat it. 

We were not attacked in this position, but 
the regiment did some active skirmishing 



272 AS SEEN- FROM THE RANKS 

along our front, for the enemy repeatedly 
attacked the skirmish -line hard enough to 
find out that it was there and ready to offer 
resistance. At one time three or four of the 
picket reserve brought a man back to the 
regiment in a blanket. As he was carried 
we supposed, of course, that he was hard hit, 
or had at least as much as a leg broken. But 
when the doctor examined him the only in- 
jury to be found was a flesh wound, — a bullet 
hole through the muscle of the upper arm. 

This would not usually prevent a man 
from walking a limited distance, but he was 
very young — only a boy in his 'teens — and 
the loss of blood with exposure to a cold rain 
had so wrought upon him that with the ner- 
vous shock he was prostrated and lost all 
strength. 

This was our last encounter with the forces 
of the Confederacy, and we soon after went 
to Goldsboro, and thence a few days later to 
Raleigh. 




CHAPTER XXV 

THE DAWN OF PEACE 

Surrender of Lee and Johnston — ^Rejoicing Interrupted 
— Lincoln and Seward — Through Richmond and 
over Old Battlefields — A Vast Bivouac of the 
Dead — Washington in Mourning, but Exultant 
and Rejoicing — The Grand Review. 

NOW the army soon became filled with the 
wildest rumors flying from mouth to 
mouth. Lee's army was said to be marching 
south to join with that of Johnston, and with 
the combined forces to overwhelm Sherman. 
Again it was rumored that negotiations were 
pending between Lee and Grant, looking to 
the surrender by the former of all the Con- 
federate forces then in Virginia; it seemed 
too good to be true. But at last it was defi- 
nitely made known that Lee's army, the 
one army of the Confederacy which had 
successfully held its ground through the 

'' 273 



274 ^^ SEEN- FROM THE RANKS 

whole war, had really surrendered, and this 
meant of course that the war was virtually 
over. 

It may have been true that we were worn 
down by the long winter's campaign, but now 
we became suddenly unconscious of it, if 
such was the case, and were filled anew with 
life and vivacity. We should surely now 
reach home, we thought, before the expira- 
tion of our three years, which would not be 
for six months yet. 

The crowding of great events was thick and 
fast now, and it was soon made known that 
there was some sort of armistice between 
Sherman and Johnston, with a view to the 
surrender by the latter of all the Confederate 
forces then in North Carolina. At last it was 
definitely stated that the terms had been 
agreed upon, and only awaited approval by 
the authorities at Washington, and the neces- 
sary technicalities of red tape. 

Now surely we could rejoice, and rejoice 
we did without stint. Why should we go 
early to bed? Rest was to fit us to endure 
the hardships and fatigue, but now there were 
to be no more hardships and fatigue. Peace 
had come. There was plenty of wood ; why 
should we not have huge fires lasting far into 



THE DAWN OF PEACE 275 

the night and lighting up the forest like a 
fairy-land ? Though they were no better than 
the usual small fires, and not nearly as com- 
fortable to sit around, they were much more 
in keeping with our feelings, and in fact 
served as one method by which to express 
them. So the large fires we had, and shouted 
with delight when the flames rolled the 
highest. 

The Signal Corps of the army of course had 
a great amount of the material of their branch 
of the service on hand, and they now joined 
in making the nights resplendent. From all 
the neighboring hills the rockets trailed their 
fiery veils across the sky, crossing and re- 
crossing with their red glare, and bursting 
scattered showers of white, red, green, and 
golden stars above the camps. 

But just as our rejoicing was at its highest 
there came fiying through the camps a dark 
and unbelievable rumor, yet it was soon sub- 
stantiated, and w^as all too true. President 
Lincoln and his Secretary of State, Hon. 
William H. Seward, had both been attacked 
with murderous intent. Lincoln died in a 
few hours, but Seward eventually recovered. 

Some years thereafter, in company with 
Joel Benton, the poet and essayist, a very 



276 AS SEE AT FROM THE RANKS 

pleasant time was spent with Seward in a 
social visit. 

A jagged and ugly-looking scar on his neck 
still showed the track of the assassin's knife. 
He may have seemed to us to take life quite 
too seriously; but if so, what wonder? For 
with all of his remarkable talents — he was 
accounted by many to be the greatest states- 
man of his day — - his noblest ambitions 
seemed to meet with nothing but disap- 
pointment, and not the least of his trials was 
the obloquy he was then sharing with Presi- 
dent Johnson, and all through no fault of his 
own. Because of the deficiencies of a man 
not fitted to fill the high office of President, 
but whom, as President, Seward was too 
noble to desert, the blows of public censure 
fell thick and fast on the devoted Secretary 
of State. 

It might have been more dramatically for- 
tunate for him had the villain succeeded; 
the two martyrs would have been enthroned 
together in the memory of later generations, 
and none may doubt that the stabs of the 
assassin were less painful than the thrusts of 
political enemies. 

But history has been kinder than his con- 
temporaries, and Seward is now recognized 



THE DA WN OF PEA CE 2// 

as the man who, more than any other one per- 
son, jointly with Lincoln bore up the honor 
and safety of the country through four long 
years of as critical a period as any nation 
ever passed through. 

Yet he was not one of those great men of 
whom it is written that they are ' ' privileged 
to be unprofitable companions." On the 
contrary, we were received on our visit with 
the greatest cordiality, and he evidently 
tried to make it enjoyable to us ; certainly in 
this he succeeded. 

Some time ago I was reminded afresh of 
these incidents by finding, among the papers 
of an old estate, a document of the date of 
1839, which bore his official signature as 
Governor of the State of New York. 

As if the news of assassination was not a 
sufficient dampener to our jubilant spirits, 
there came trailing after, the word that the 
terms of Johnston's surrender had not been 
accepted at Washington, and that hostilities 
would at once be resumed. Seemingly to 
give it emphasis we had orders to march at 
once, and packing our knapsacks again we 
took our place in the marching column, 
which was moving in the direction in which 
the enemy was supposed to be. 



2/8 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

But this last act of the war drama was 
drawing rapidly to a close, and its culminating 
events could not long be delayed. Before 
we were given an opportunity to again come 
in conflict with the Confederates another 
halt was ordered, and now the news spread 
that Johnston had really surrendered, this 
time accepting the same terms as those ac- 
corded to Lee by Grant. 

At last the war was really over, but we 
could not rejoice as we did at first, for there 
was constantly present in our minds the 
tragedy of the White House. Yet we had 
become too much accustomed to tragedies to 
be long depressed by them, and the army 
was soon in excellent spirits again, though 
public demonstrations were at an end. Soon 
the orders were received for the home march, 
and with faces set towards the north we 
trudged patiently on, for there was yet a 
long tramp before we should even reach 
Washington. 

The distance from Raleigh to Washington 
does not seem very great when viewed on a 
map of the United States, but it is nearly as 
far as the distance we had already come from 
Savannah, which had occupied the army for 
two months. But the conditions of the 



THE DAWN OF PEACE 279 

march had more to do with it than the 
distance. There no longer existed the neces- 
sity for keeping the army in a defensive atti- 
tude, and the whole surrounded by a strong 
guard every night. 

Now at night each brigade, with its wagon 
train, just filed into the fields or woods, wher- 
ever they happened to be when darkness 
came on, and went into camp. There were 
no laggards when reveille sounded in the 
morning, for all were eager to push on, when 
each day took us a day's march nearer home. 

Occasionally the roads would become 
crowded, for in the eagerness to push for- 
ward which pervaded all branches of the 
service, the wagons would sometimes crowd 
ahead and fill the road, perhaps driving two 
or three abreast. Then the infantry would 
betake themselves to the fields and woods 
until intercepted by a swamp. When this 
happened some would crowd into the high- 
way again, struggling with the mule teams 
and quarrelling with the drivers, while other 
regiments would make long detours, around 
the swamp or to find a passage through it. 

The army, as a whole, seemed to feel the 
close of the war as an immense stimulus to 
exertion, and the effect of the high spirits in 



280 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

keeping up the physical strength was simply- 
wonderful. There was evident an entire in- 
difference to fatigue, and we now began to 
make the longest average marches of any 
that we had made in the war, ordinarily cov- 
ering from twenty-five to thirty-five miles per 
day when there were no hindrances. 

But everything had to make way for the 
pontoon train when it was ordered to the 
front, and it would go rattling merrily past. 
When it reached the place where the bridge 
was needed the wagons were unloaded with 
shouts and laughter, and the various parts 
were put together and the bridge constructed 
with a rapidity only acquired by long prac- 
tice. The men whistled and sang as they 
worked, for there was no danger now of in- 
terruption by an unseen enemy who might 
be on the other bank of the stream. 

Our corps, the Twentieth, together with the 
Fourteenth Corps, formed what was known 
as the left wing of Sherman's army. It hap- 
pened at one time on this homeward march 
that the two corps were obliged to take the 
same road, and there was much good- 
natured rivalry as to which should have the 
lead. By dint of getting started before day- 
light and keeping the road so full that 



THE DAWN OF PEACE 28 1 

nothing could pass us we managed to keep 
ahead for several days. But one night the 
Fourteenth Corps must have marched all 
night by some roundabout way through the 
woods, and got to the main highway ahead 
of us, for after we had got our usual early 
start we did not go many miles before we 
found they had supplanted us on that road. 

There was a certain plantation where a 
good-sized wagon-house stood with broad 
doors to the highway. With this inviting 
surface for a "canvas," some budding An- 
gelo, who may have since saluted Fame, had 
made a charcoal sketch, which was, to use a 
comrade's expression, "As large as life and 
twice as natural." 

The symbolism of the picture it was not 
difficult to understand; it meant that the 
Twentieth Corps was not ahead on that day. 
The fun of it was that from its conspicuous 
position, the whole of our corps were obliged 
to march past it and see it. But everything 
was taken in the best of humor, and jokes, 
even on ourselves, never came amiss. 

We saw nothing of the paroled and scat- 
tered remnants of the Confederate army on 
the way, but pushed steadily forward until we 
reached Richmond, crossed the river, and 



282 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

passed the famous Libby Prison. Thence as 
we climbed the city's seven hills and threaded 
its streets we passed the house where General 
Lee was then staying. He had been standing 
in the front door but a short time before, 
silently and sadly watching the victorious 
army as it passed, but he had stepped inside 
and closed the door just before we reached 
that point, and the drawn curtains of the 
windows gave us no glimpse of the famous 
occupant within. 

From Richmond our march took us over 
some of the old battlefields of Virginia, first 
those of the Wilderness and Spottsylvania 
Court-house. The uncanny scenes presented 
by these fields a year after the battles seemed 
like desolation itself, though food for the 
buzzards, and for the wild hogs that roam 
untamed and unowned in all Southern forests, 
had long since vanished. There were mounds 
with sunken centres, where evidently many 
had been buried together, and only slightly 
covered at that, for portions of the skeletons 
protruded from the soil. But there were 
thousands still unburied, lying where they 
fell, skeletons in belt and buckler, their white 
bones peering from blue uniforms, in this 
vast bivouac of the dead. 



THE DA WN OF PEA CE 283 

"No rumor of the foe's advance 

Now swells upon the wind: 
No troubled thought at midnight haunts 

Of loved ones left behind: 
No vision of the morrow's strife 

The warrior's dream alarms, 
No braying horn or screaming fife 

At dawn shall call to arms." 

But wild Nature never mourns for man, 
its subduer and ruler. Birds were trilling 
their springtime melodies to their mates as 
ever, while the nest-building went merrily on ; 
field-mice nested among the faded tatters 
of blue, and perhaps anon gnawed through 
the leather cartridge-box and smelled of the 
mouldering powder and grease-covered leaden 
balls, wondering what new products Dame 
Nature had provided for her children ; while 
over them all the fields and woods were being 
clothed anew in blossoms and green. 

Was it sodden brutality for our army to 
thus leave its dead unburied? Nay, but 
rather an appreciation of the realities of war, 
and of the supreme necessity of devoting the 
army to its prosecution, rather than to occupy 
the time in covering with mould some de- 
serted tenements. So these fiercely contested 
fields and woods, suddenly abandoned by 



284 AS SEE AT FROM THE RANKS 

both armies, were left to the kindly offices of 
Nature. But it is pleasant to think that all 
the remains were soon afterward removed 
to the National Cemeteries near Washington. 

How different all this had been conducted 
under Grant from what it was at Antietam, 
under McClellan, in 1862. 

There were portions of these famous con- 
flicts where the firing was so continuous and 
heavy by both sides that large trees stand- 
ing between the lines were literally cut down 
by the leaden hail. I examined one tree in 
particular, an oak about twenty inches in 
diameter, which seemed to have been chipped 
and slivered by bullets from the ground up 
ten or fifteen feet, until it had finally fallen 
over. How this could have been done in 
regular battle I do not yet understand, but 
there lay the tree prone on the ground, and 
there was the mutilated stump. When I 
next saw this stump, it was standing in the 
Government Museum at Washington. 

The battlefield of Chancellorsville also pre- 
sented a similar spectacle, though it was then 
the second year since that battle was fought. 
It was here that a member of our brigade 
found the remains of his brother where he 
left him lying dead in that hasty retreat two 



THE DAWN OF PEACE 285 

years before. He was enabled to be certain 
in the identification by some peculiarities of 
the teeth. 

At last we passed that sad State, once 
called ''The Mother of Presidents," but which 
had now become world famous in ways less 
to be envied, and had reached the Long 
Bridge leading to Washington. Now came 
the "Grand Review," as it was called, in 
which the two largest armies of the war 
passed in review in successive days before 
the President, and before a city full of friends 
and visitors. Unavoidably there was a cer- 
tain incongruity, or mingling of emotions, 
for the nation, while rejoicing in peace and 
victory, mourned the untimely death of our 
good Lincoln, and as the years rolled on there 
was more and more cause to mourn the loss 
of his wise and guiding hand. 

Column after column passed the reviewing 
stand, not with the quick and mincing steps 
of militia, but with that far-reaching, swing- 
ing stride which had carried its men around 
and through and over the Confederacy, from 
the Mississippi to the Atlantic, and north- 
ward to Washington again. 

As the artillery rolled along Pennsylvania 
Avenue, its rumbling seemed the long-drawn 



286 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

echoes of the innumerable conflicts of the 
years gone by. The cavalry, with the horses' 
manes clipped to the crest, rode stirrup to 
stirrup with an alignment as perfect as that 
of infantry, and many a nicked and stained 
sabre was carried proudly to shoulder that 
day. 

Then followed the ambulances, with the 
old blood-stained stretchers hanging on their 
sides, and the rumbling of their wheels seemed 
like a vast ghostly procession of the shrieks 
and groans of that great host of suffering ones, 
representatives of the nation's blood sacrifice, 
who had ridden in them, many of them to 
their last resting-places. 

And so at last we passed beyond the city, 
a cit}^ wreathed and draped in black, but 
exultant and rejoicing as well, and w^ent into 
camp, awaiting our turn to be mustered out 
of the service. 



'^^^^^^^^i^l&r^^^^^^^ 






CHAPTER XXVI 

THE HOME-COMING 

A Brief Review of the War — Regiment again at Pough- 
keepsie— Only a Fragment of the Original Mem- 
bership Join in the Home-Coming — An Honorable 
Record — Dutchess County Welcomes its Veterans. 

AS I have said, I am not writing a history 
of the war. The utter futility of any 
effort to comprehend such a thing in one 
Httle volume would be seen at once by refer- 
ence to the vast array of statistics on the 
subject. But as columns of figures seldom 
convey any adequate impression to the 
understanding, let me use one illustration. 

If a lecturer should attempt to describe all 
the conflicts of the war, and for that purpose 
should devote even one minute to each battle 
or skirmish on land or sea, he would be com- 
pelled to speak continuously for sixty minutes 
in each hour, and six hours each day for five 
287 



288 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

or six days. Each of these conflicts cost 
human Hves, sometimes only a few, and 
sometimes several thousands. 

And yet, while not writing a history of the 
war, it may not be inappropriate to give a 
brief resume of its progress towards its final 
successful issue, in order that the reader may 
keep in touch with events in the order in 
which I have related them. To those in the 
East who kept their gaze fixed on the armies 
in Virginia, which struggled during the whole 
four years most of the time in one State, the 
Government seemed to be making no pro- 
gress, but a comprehensive survey of the 
whole field leads to different conclusions. 

At the outbreak of hostilities in 1861 the 
antagonists confronted each other on a line 
which may be roughly outlined as following 
the Potomac and Ohio rivers, and passing 
through Missouri and the Indian Territory. 
The remainder of the first year was mainly 
occupied by both sides in making preparations 
for the war, which all now saw was unavoid- 
able, and the hard fighting done was incon- 
siderable in comparison with that which 
followed. Yet at its close most of the 
Southern ports were blockaded, and the Con- 
federates had been driven from that portion 



THE HOME-COMING 289 

of Virginia that lies west of the Alleghanies. 
The loyal citizens of that section immediately 
made application to be separated from the 
remainder of the State, which was done, and 
the State of West Virginia was created. 

The year 1862 saw great portions of Ken- 
tucky, Tennessee, and Missouri wrested from 
the enemy. 

In the year 1863 the Mississippi was opened 
and the only effective territory left to the 
Confederacy was the Atlantic a nd Gulf States 
south of the Potomac and east of the Mis- 
sissippi. The Government forces had also 
obtained an increased foothold at various 
points on the coast. Though blood and 
treasure continued to be wasted by both 
combatants west of the great river, yet it 
was waste in the fullest sense of the term, for 
it had no effect either way upon the progress 
or result of the war. 

In 1864 Sherman's campaign from Ten- 
nessee to the coast made such wide-spread 
destruction of railroads and other property 
that another great piece was won from the 
Confederacy, and the only effective resistance 
remaining was in Virginia and the two Caro- 
linas. The Southern leaders now began to 
realize that their empire ambition was like 



290 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

the prisoner in the fabled "Iron Chamber," 
a prison cell of iron, which was so ingeniously 
arranged that the sides periodically folded 
and reduced the dimensions of the prison 
until the unfortunate prisoner was finally 
crushed in its folds. 

When, therefore, in January, 1865, our 
army was swung across the Savannah River 
and began its devastating march northward, 
it was the beginning of the end, for it was 
approaching the rear of the last large army 
of the Confederacy, the one then confronting 
Grant in Virginia. Sherman says of this 
campaign : ' ' This march was like the thrust 
of a sword towards the heart of the human 
body; each mile of advance swept aside all 
opposition, consumed the very food on which 
Lee's army depended for life, and demon- 
strated a power in the National Government 
which was irresistible." 

On a June afternoon in 1865 there drew up 
to Main Street Landing at Poughkeepsie the 
steamer Mary Benton, and down her gang- 
plank and up Main Street marched a body of 
soldiers, bronzed and sunburned to the last 
degree. It was all that remained of the 
"Dutchess County Regiment." 



THE HOME-COMING 29 1 

It had been strengthened by the enhstment 
of new men from time to time, and once a 
portion of another New York regiment, 
which had been disbanded, had been merged 
in it. But of the whole number who marched 
down Main Street with us in i86^, how 
many marched up the same street in 1865, I 
have not been able to ascertain, yet it was 
but a small fragment of the original one 
thousand. 

Of the others some had been discharged 
for disability, while many were still lying in 
hospitals with sickness and wounds. Some 
had starved in Southern prison pens, and 
some, exchanged, had come home to die. 
The dead were buried at Gettysburg, and in 
Maryland and Virginia. Some were slain by 
the rifles of guerillas in Tennessee, and from 
there to Atlanta their graves form a continu- 
ous line over the whole route. 

A few fell in the skirmishes from Atlanta 
to the sea, and more in the siege of Savannah 
and the skirmishes in the Carolinas. On the 
battlefields of Averysborough and Benton- 
ville rest our dead, and they were buried also 
from the hospitals of Alexandria, Washington, 
Baltimore, Nashville, Chattanooga, King- 
ston, and perhaps others. 



292 AS SEEN FROM THE RANKS 

Our experience was not unusual, either in 
hardships endured or the numbers lost, but 
the regiment had an honorable record, having 
accomplished every task assigned it, and 
never once in its whole term of service did it 
take part in a retreat. 

The corps to which it was attached, the 
Twelfth (afterward designated the Twenti- 
eth), had a remarkable record, for it was the 
only corps in our whole army from whom the 
enemy never captured a cannon or a flag. 
At the grand review at the close of the war 
they swept past the reviewing stand with 
every gun and flag in place. 

Ours was one of the few regiments that was 
permitted to return and be mustered out in 
its own State, and that fact drew out to 
welcome us even greater crowds than had 
bidden us farewell when we started for the 
seat of war. 

Of parading the streets, which were fairly 
canopied with banners and mottoes; the 
spread in the park; the tears of joy for the 
living and of sorrow for the dead: all these 
are incidents of peace, and may be omitted 
from an account of war experiences. 

THE END 



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